10:59pm — first case of verbal diarrhoea

patient is distraught, she doesn’t know where she’s headed, cannot stop throwing up all these thoughts and feelings. may prescribe her with sleep or a vacation.

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i think i’m tired of living. but no, i don’t want to die. sounds paradoxical, and yes it’s completely understandable. they kinda refer to the same thing, the big d you know, death.

but no, i don’t want to die. i’m not prepared for the consequences, and there’s too many things i’m leaving behind, too many experiences forgone, too many memories forsaken. i envision myself at my own funeral, seeing those dear to me weeping, blaming themselves for not detecting this streak of misery in me, for not pulling me out of this mess. i could not do that, not to them.

at the same time, i’m tired of this life. i’m tired of being in this being, of living this life. i’m tired of having deteriorating bodily functions when i’m not even 20, of having a shell that isn’t as shiny or beautiful or pristine as others’, of running ceaselessly in this hamster wheel, of being a sub-par human.

i think i’m too hard on myself, and that’s absolutely true. i am very much cognisant of the fact that i chide myself too regularly and judge myself too harshly. but this is yet another cycle of me knowing that i’m too critical of myself, and then telling myself to be kinder, and then losing hold of that, and then criticising myself and then that ‘eureka’ moment comes again and i think “you’re too hard on yourself, stop”.

on days when my emotions are still on their leashes, i am able to think more rationally. and i realise that my expectations of myself are just plain absurd. the ‘me’ i’ve constructed in my head is perhaps the very embodiment of perfection — beauty and brains, sparkling inside out. how did i think that i could ever achieve that, i don’t know. my brain just internalises that information and projects it on the screen, telling me that i should strive to be those things, to have those qualities. they are listed there in bullet points, waiting for me to check them off. get straight As and graduate with a first class honours, have a good complexion, try to be more extroverted and forthcoming, lose some fat here and there and there and there, learn to make myself more girly, be productive and consistent in your work, outdo your previous essays because advancement is the only way, fix my teeth because they don’t look nice in photos.

i’m not content with this shell, neither am i happy with the circumstances this shell (along with its inhabitant) is in. but i think the thing that irks me the most is that i remind myself to not think this way, and i always slip back into this abyss. i hate the fact that i am the very reason why i’m groping around in this darkness, finding a way out only to thrust myself into the pitch-black again. and because of this, i feel so exhausted, so weary.

i ask myself when is this going to end because there’s all these versions of me, living inside me, and they’re causing such a commotion that it’s gnawing away at my sanity. the only reasonable conclusion i can come up with, is that i’m just this web of contradictions, and honestly i don’t think it sits right with me. but is it okay? i don’t know.

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unedited.

appointment ended at 11:55pm.