Everything is too much right now.
Winston ripped up a sizable chunk of carpet in my living room. This should be a frustration; at worst, I’ll lose the security deposit when I move out. But it’s not just a frustration–right now I’m fighting suicidality. I feel like a terrible pet owner because I should’ve trained him better or at least supervised him better, and I’m bad for being angry at him and putting him in the crate. I feel like I’m a terrible person who should kill herself so she doesn’t hurt anybody else.
And I’m a bad volunteer because the neighborhood team leader just called me, and I let it go to voicemail. I haven’t done the data entry I need to because my Internet is down, and I’m afraid she’s mad at me. So of course my fucked up brain’s fucked up solution to what’s probably isn’t even a problem at all: suicide.
When I saw NT on Monday, she offered me another time this week. I took it, and now I’m hating myself for it. She’s going to think you’re too needy, Sara. She’s going to think it because it’s true. Nothing is ever enough for you, is it? You want a mommy. Well, guess what? You can’t have one. You don’t deserve one. Why do you think your own mother could never love you? It’s not you, it’s her. And now you want your therapist to be your mommy and love you–do you know how fucking pathetic that is? You’re 26 years old, so grow the fuck up already. Call and tell her you’re too sick to come on Friday. Hell, while you’re at it, just tell her you’re too sick to come ever. You’re too needy and fucked up for anyone to ever love you. Just kill yourself already. This world would be better off without you.
…not really sure where/who that last bit came from. I’m not actually going to kill myself or anything. But I just don’t know how to cope. Normal coping skills don’t work for me. The self-destructive ones do, but I really don’t want to go there. I just don’t know what to do. Even if I could make myself ask for help, I don’t know what anyone could do that would actually help. At this point I’m feeling pretty hopeless and like there isn’t anything that would help.
I’m just too much, for myself or anyone else.