the end.

12/16/2024

i survived my first semester without killing myself. go me

i’ve been exhausted for weeks now. it started mid-november and continued on; i had pms/pmdd/pmwhatevertfisgoingonwithme the week of thanksgiving break, so that wasn’t really much rest for me. i haven’t been able to sleep before 3am for the last week and yet i’m hardwired to wake up no later than 10am. factoring in how often i wake up during the night, i’ve gotten no more than six hours most nights. poor scheduling led to me stressing over projects, but i got what i needed to done and skipped a couple that wouldn’t affect my grade. my partner keeps saying ‘work smarter not harder’ though unfortunately i’m neurotic, so i still feel guilty.

about a month ago, i had a really bad week. it was the first week post-election, so i was coming off of the shellshock and dread set in. i had an appointment at the ed program which always triggers me, and my partner was going through a health crisis to boot. for the latter half of the week, i did not keep anything down and lost a few pounds in the intervening time. i thought it was dehydration, though i weighed myself a few days ago and i’m still at the exact same number. i guess it stuck.

during my last day of class, i spent some time waiting in the hall after we came back from seeing the cadaver. one of my classmates was lifting people, mostly out of boredom. it’s kinda funny; left to their own devices, even grown adults still act like middle schoolers in scenarios like these. eventually they asked to lift me. i said yes. they specifically commented on how light i was, something they didn’t say about anyone else. i am going to be replaying those words for the next week.

i don’t have a therapist at the moment, i likely won’t transfer until the new year. i’ve only been free of school for a few hours and listlessness is already setting in. i just want to throw up, it doesn’t help that my acid reflux is really acting up again. i’m so tired but i can’t just let myself sleep. apparently i’d rather stare at my phone, roleplaying things that make me feel guilty with a chatbot.

about two weeks ago, i had a very vivid dream about caring for a baby. it’s been long enough that most of the specifics have faded from my mind, but i remember little hands wrapping around my finger. my partner was there, too. when i fantasize about having children, i usually leave them out of it from some sense of respect - i know they don’t want kids, so i don’t involve them in my daydreaming. yet my unconscious mind roped them in anyway. i awoke feeling profoundly guilty, and that sensation lingers now.

every time i go to the ed program, they ask what i’d need to give it up. i swear to god that nothing has ever made me think of stopping quite like the idea of pregnancy. i don’t want a baby to cure my eating disorder, that isn’t how it works, but i would 100% give it up no questions asked if it meant i could have a child. i want it so badly it drives me insane, but it’s completely out of my reach. my current partner doesn’t want kids, and i have no social contact outside of them. i don’t even think anyone could find me pleasant as a friend, let alone romantically/sexually attractive. so maybe i’ll never recover and die in my thirties. this is why i can’t even bring it up to my partner, i’d end up sounding manipulative, i just can’t see myself recovering otherwise. i don’t care if i live but i’d care about a hypothetical baby.

i keep thinking about names. i named myself after a fictional character who has a daughter, so if i had a daughter, i’d like to name her after that character. only problem is, it’s technically not a real name. i think it could pass as one, but i worry. i keep scrolling through parenting forums and there’s a lot of debate over ‘fandom names’, and it’s making me feel guilty. i think there’s another layer given the aspect of me naming myself after said character’s father, but still. maybe i’m a bad person, putting odd expectations on my non-existent child or just setting her up to be bullied. she’s not even real and i feel bad for her.

i just feel guilty. that’s it, i guess. i’m an immoral sack of shit because i have the audacity to want a family.

i haven’t drank in weeks now. i almost miss it. almost. maybe i’ll take it up again over the holidays. feels festive.

~april