Growing Is Shit
As many bad days begin, I feel like it has been a while since it has gotten to this level. I've begun writing again in my journal, here and there, whenever I feel like I have the capacity for it. Or if writing it out somewhere else didn't work. Though I am now on my way to being 27, it just shows you that your fucking mental illness doesn't go away with age. The only difference is, I am much more aware and better equipped to deal with them than I was before. And to be fair, bad days and worse days are often rare in-between nowadays, now that my life are in a pretty good condition. It goes to show that your condition DOES get better with a higher quality of life. Well, generally. At least I'm glad it happened on a weekend so I don't have to deal with it on top of work. To be honest, it started since last night and continued on throughout the day even after I opened my eyes from a restless sleep. I know I should be letting myself feel my feelings and sitting with th...