Suicidal brain fog, a pit of despair. That was how I felt six years ago, the same time of year–June, July-ish. I had a paying internship and seemed pretty successful on outward appearances. But in actuality, I wanted to die. I tried to die.
Six years ago was my lowest point and the feelings I have now remind me of then. I do feel like I’m in a better place, and the depression doesn’t seem to be as bad… just eerily similar. It scares me. I feel uncertain, as though I am on shaky–perhaps even crumbling–ground.
I’m scared. It scares me.
Currently Untitled 