Nine Hundred & Forty Nine

Theme: Anti-Depressants

I'm on my own. No one gives a fuck. Sarah doesn't want to make the effort to at least come see me for ten minutes. I was all pre-pared for her to come and visit me this Saturday. I brought all this nail stuff and her birthday present and I truly don't think I will see her again. Even if she does end up coming back to work I just, I don't think I could really open up to her as much as I did. I'm so on my own again, and it's horrible. It's been like four months now I've been trying to get a damn doctors appointment. I was meant to go with Sarah. I think I'll end up doing it on my own. I feel I'll. All the time. It's like a flu. I feel physically flu like and mentally flu like. I'm just going to get worse. I wonder how young I was when I got my first suicidal thought. The youngest I remember I must have been around twelve? But possibly younger. I wish someone loved me. Like love, loved me. I want to be happy with someone. I want to go to bed with them and have cuddles and have them make me laugh. I've worked out that I've told all my ex's about my mental state. I won't bother next time. It seems to destroy things. My imperfections are just so huge there like big craters. I want someone I can just love for being them and make a big fuss over them.

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