Eventually…

I contemplated when seeing my psychiatrist, to confess…

I need more help.

That I am drowning inside of myself. That most days, I just don’t want to do this anymore.

I go through the motions of life, I eat because we all eat. I sleep because we sleep. But a huge portion of me don’t want this anymore. I just want to disappear.

But i didn’t. Instead I went to eat something I wanted, made myself some nanchos.

Only to be shot by a recovering patient who went through YET another health scare. “Why are you eating this, then you’ll get fatter. And be ridden with sickness, then what will happen to your kids?”

Lil did she know, what she thought would be encouragement and thought provoking, just fueled the voices in my head. That if so it’ll be good.

But I didn’t confess, I didn’t ask the help I think I need. So I’ll get better eventually… on my own terms.