Nov 15

 Ill. Exhausted. Everytime I eat, something very wrong happens. I swell up.

My mentals are creaking severely under the pressure. The walls are closing in.

Today I have tried to begin to get some ducks in a row, and largely failed. I am low key horrified about just how little I can do. 15 minutes on my feet and I am done. More ill. Dizzy. Headache. Face tingles. The works.

All of it whispers to me how far down that spiral I am.

There is I suppose, always a crunch point. You can't slide down that slope forever.

My overdoing it at the start of this week now looks in hindsight to be extremely unfortunate timing. 

My brother is going to come pick me up from the hospital on Monday. I feel guilty about making him come all that way.

All paths but one seem very dark.

I am just putting one foot in front of another, or rather, taking one breath at a time. And sleeping. And just letting shit land where it will. But. Yeah. But.

Grim.

But it was never going to be anything but, was it. 

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