I’m done. I’m just fucking done. I really want to go home and kill myself, although I probably won’t.
I shouldn’t feel this bad. I got Winston a new crate, got all my insurance issues sorted out, my foot’s doing better…but I want to die. It makes no sense.
For some reason I just feel completely hopeless. I’m suddenly convinced that Sheppard Pratt can’t help me and my new therapist can’t help me and god knows I can’t help me. I’m too broken and disgusting and unlovable, so I feel this desperate NEED to kill myself.