PACIFIC COAST HIGHWAY

After reading the last post, Viv texted me to say she would also assist me monetarily in seeking therapy, and I can treat it like a mental health Patreon (it's a platform for creators and artists) so she can keep reading my words on this blog and eventually perhaps even my novel. It wasn't her intention but I cried at her text. I agreed to see a therapist, so maybe later I'll go check the IMH website. I don't know what the trigger for this is, but I know from experience and from reading materials, that sometimes there just is no trigger. I keep recalling my mother saying it is a good thing I had the miscarriage because I would otherwise have had to live with the burden of a child conceived out of wedlock, and then I recall again that I was that child to her, and that she had to keep me because it was too late for her to do anything else. I think about my grandmother saying I shouldn't be saying these things on the internet, like these are shameful things, and I wonder if there is something wrong with me that I don't feel ashamed. I'm exhausted and I don't want to exhaust anyone else. Every night someone has to monitor me to see that I don't do anything to hurt myself. Every night someone asks me to make plans for the next day and the next day and the next so that I don't die that night, so that I make it to my next day's plans. But for what? What is this all for? I don't know what the payoff is. I feel like it takes a lot of effort to keep me going and I don't know if it's worth the payoff. I don't know if life sucks because it sucks this much for everyone and I'm weak or it sucks more for me because my brain and body just don't produce the same amount of chemicals that other people do. I had a talk with a best friend about this, I asked if she would forgive me if I took my own life, and she said she would be so angry at me, but she eventually would. I am very tired of being strong for anyone else and even for myself. This is exhausting.