There's only so much I can do to make depression, verbal self-evisceration, and crushing separation anxiety interesting.

I know what happens to people who get on this cycle. I lived it all through college, and more importantly, I watched Daria.

I don't want to become the Misery Chick. Or more likely, given my utter resignation on gender issues, the Misery Dude. Or as I slowly, sadly drift away from you all on uspol, the Misery Shitlord.

#SamplesRepresentActualMoods

#ButAreNotActualSize

I miss everybody. I honestly don't know what more I can do to fix things, from this state of low energy.

Trying to get back into therapy is turning into a bureaucratic clusterfuck and a painful reminder of class issues, and it's not helping that it seems to be people's first and only answer for dealing with these things.

And honestly, I've only had one therapist who's ever really been worth a damn. Not sure therapy is really good for my anarchist sensibilities. >_<

Please just understand that I don't want anything but company and reassurance right now. Nobody else is expected to come in and just fix this. Nobody is expected to radically change their behavior.

I just need a place where I can talk out loud about this stuff. Having it all just echo around in my head by itself is scary.

These words, and Peggy, are basically all I feel like I have left. Losing more family ain't helping.

Thank you for those who have borne with me here.