The Operating Room.

I started a diary and auto-fictional literature course and, funnily enough, I haven't written in my diary that much ever since.

So, what is life then? What am I supposed to endure once I'm "okay"? To be nobody? To be unable to take the place of the disturbed one and have to live in the emptiness of a smile? Stop messing around! Seriously, stop messing around. There's no life after life, no life in the good life, and it infuriates me, it frustrates me. I think of a smiling me in the mirror and it's not me, no, I don't accept it. I don't take the pill and stop betraying myself in what I am: a pathological being, the one who sits on the floor and thinks, and thinks, and gets overwhelmed and solves things in his mind, the one who fries and twists his stomach and clouds his senses but thinks. What is there to think about the good life? Where nothing happens, nothing occurs, pain is secondary if not nonexistent. I didn't come into this world to bring colorful pages to give good feelings, I already did that, and it wasn't me. I'll never betray this again. I am rebelling against a system that failed her, a system to which I owe nothing if they are not in her fight, if they are not with her—the girl who listened to Merzbow and thought she owned the world, the girl who didn't have to listen to anyone, yet everyone had to listen to her rage. I fight for her.

Today I forgot to take my morning pills because my mother left them in the counter, she left before I woke up.

There's something horrible on how anchored I am to Sasha, I feel like he affects various angles of my life. I don't really seek relationships anymore which is nice as an aroace anyway, I have very unhealthy periods of time where I just daydream about the world I've built around him for around months and then I go back into working as much as I can, I just feel happier around my idea of him, and I've invested a insane amount of time in this weird devotion.

The reason I haven't really written anything for some days is mostly my life being nothing nowadays. I spend most of my time just in bed, doing nothing, just daydreaming and letting my mind summon images of things I could be doing. It has been kind of difficult, to think of my future while I'm most likely going to use the next 5 years of my life trying to fix my health when, in reality, I should be using this time to let my family and such understand that I just will never be able to fix thigs... I'm not talking about my depression being unfixable, I'm talking my anemia which will last for the rest of my life, I'm talking about my mind in general, about my insomnia and amnesia, I'm just not going to make it into a normal adult life and it's horrible for me.