I want to drink too much. Have random sex. And just generally be self destructive. I want to binge eat and purge but I can’t stand puking. A personal flaw I often feel. I don’t think it’s that I don’t give a fuck like I said in my last post. I think I’m feeling too much. I’m feeling unhappy uneffective unloved. I am broken beyond repair. It’s not even that my new relationship had a falling out. Things are great. I’m pretending like everything is awesome. I don’t want to scare him off. This feels beyond depression or maybe depression adjacent. I don’t feel hopeless though I’m having thoughts of wanting to cut my wrists. I know I need to be strong for my son. I know there are bigger things then me going on in this world. I can’t get outside this desire to self destruct. I also know I won’t. It’s not like when I went into the hospital. I feel in control. I just feel too much. And no one to hug me and say it’ll be ok. I don’t want to be alone but here I sit. I miss having friends to come over. I want my life back before my mental illness took it away.