I just don’t know what to do

I feel so lost, so lonely.

I nearly called Ian home from work earlier, but I didn’t: I’ve made it through the day, hooray.

It’s a hollow victory, though.

Because I don’t want to be here any more.

This hateful, hateful illness has overwhelmed everything I am, everything I do, everything that matters to me.

I’ve lost all hope of ever getting well. And I can’t live like this, can’t make the people around me live like this.

I’m getting through the day purely on the knowledge that as night falls, I can take tablets that send me into oblivion, where I don’t have to think or feel or hurt, and where I’m not causing anyone else problems, either.

I’m broken and I don’t think I can be mended.

I can’t do this any more.