Wowee, shit got dark before. Bad news is that shit got darker. Good news is that shit got better after.
I started taking birth control to make my PMS not insane so that it doesn't contribute to my pessimistic mindset, HOWEVER, a fun side effect is depression.
Knowing my luck, I got that side effect. I got off it as soon as I made the connection and now I'm feeling better. However, schizophrenia may be back on the table.
I recently discovered that I've been hallucinating for the past year or so. I didn't realise that they were hallucinations because they're not threatening and I just thought I was tired. Turns out that yes I am tired and also very stressed which actually triggers that shit.
The hallucinations are pretty chill, I sometimes see a black roughly dog-shaped thing run or just sit in my peripheral vision,
as well as ink scribbles and profanity behind people when they speak. I honest to God thought that I was just imagining shit because I was tired. Then the scribble shit happened behind my therapist and thus the discovery was uhh discovered.
Great news though! I graduate in 67 days! I can finally be rid of this fucking highschool. Weird shit though, my friend from the US is becoming very radical.
He's always been very political and has always enjoyed meeting Trump supporters on Omegle to destroy their arguments, but he's been talking about some weird shit as of late.
He's always been anti-gun and anti-violence but for the past couple days he's been talking about "taking arms". He's 25 and has had a difficult life, so it's not to be taken too lightly.
It's just strange because of how anti-violence he used to be. He'd be heartbroken when a shooting happened.
But then he became obsessed with the Spanish Civil War, then it got strange. I'll have to look into that war and see what it's about to understand him more.


I'm gonna be honest with y'all, it's not going good in this here mind-town. I'm trying to be more optimistic and planning my future etc,
but it just sounds fake. I already know my ending, but I don't know if what I know is actually fact or fiction - if that makes any sense (?).
I'm confused. My therapist says that's the dissociation rearing it's fucking head, but it just feels so real; it feels more real than Reality. God, I hate calling it Reality.
I've started calling this place Reality and the actual Reality Real-Reality. What the actual fucking fuck I sound insane. Look reader, I'm not crazy okay.
I just have a funky brain that can't do shit no more. But yeah. It hurts. It really fucking hurts. Somedays it's okay. Somedays I can look at the sky
and go "That is the sky" and I can look at myself in the mirror and go "That is me". But then somedays I look at the sky and all I see is a really good oil painting
and when I see myself I see someone else. Oh hey, good news, eggs aren't shitty anymore. When I was in the thick of EDNOS
I managed to convince myself that eggs have zero taste. I used to love eggs. Well now eggs have taste and it's nearly pleasant.
I give it a month until they become appealing. I don't know if I'll ever crave eggs again though. Fuck man. It's okay though.
It'll be okay. I tell myself that. It helps a lot. Hey, you, reader. It's gonna be okay.


Well, shit. First off, I mixed up the time and thought the appointment was at 12:30 instead of 12 so mother and I showed up late as shit.
In addition to that, we left the house 10 minutes late. Rest in motherfucking peace. Anyways,
the real sauce of the day was in the diagnosis, or should I say semi-diagnosis. Due to our lateness (more like my lateness),
I couldn't get a full appointment so I don't have a clear diagnosis. Fuck. FUCK. Because now, I can't get a clear diagnosis and thus
medication to make me fucking fuction. Anyways, the diagnosis-ish is some sort of dissociation disorder with some anxiety and possible
depression because GUESS THE FUCK WHAT, Mother has only now revealed to me that my entire paternal family has depression,
anxiety, and 1 or 2 suicides. Also a fuckton of alcoholism, anger issues, and domestic abuse. Actually what the fucking fuck. I was only told about
the domestic abuse, anger issues, and somewhat told about the alcoholism. And turns out since I was goddamn born I've shown crystal
clear signs of having that genetic bullshit of control issues, anger, sensitivity, etc. Jesus fucking Christ. Only now they fucking tell me about
Father's family. Fuck them. Not my parents, fuck my extended goddamn family. Those assholes disinherited me.
The last direct message I got from anyone of them was when I was 8 or some crap. Those fuckers.
I mean, I'm their flesh and blood and they've given me some wife-beater gene, and they forget I exist and remove me from the family.
What cunts. Anyways, rant over, I needed that.


Fuck, man. I'm scared. Tomorrow I've got an appointment with my therapist, mother, and a doctor.
My therapist told me that I'm going to get diagnosed and put on medication. Thing is, she won't tell me what I could be diagnosed with.
She consulted her team and seems pretty certain of what I have. So shit. I looked into what I could have and what symptoms best describes my shit.
I've concluded that I either have some funky type of anxiety or early schizophrenia. I don't know what to think, really. These are honest to God the possible outcomes.
I'm scared. I'm scared that the treatment won't work and that I'll get worse. I'm really fucking scared fuck.


I hate being too honest. Whenever I write on here I'm always in a panicked state and so I end up spewing ridiculous negative rants.
So I deleted my last two enteries as I feel like they either represent me completely, or not at all. I don't know what I'll be writing.
I keep putting on a mask even when I'm anonymous. It's ridiculous. I don't know what I want from this site. I'll find my niche. It'll be okay.

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