Lydia Rose 's Dear Diary

It's been a strange day. The kind where it feels like it should have rained the entire time but no, great big sun in the sky like a giant fuck you. I mean, I can't expect the world to be as cloudy as I am, that's just absurd. Still, I can't help but

I'm wondering if I'm doing this out of pure habit at this point. If that's the case, it fucking sucks. If I could at least have the decency to not retain a part of my heart for myself, maybe I wouldn't be in this situation. Or maybe I would. Yeah, I

Are fathers just programmed to mess you up? Is it like, a secret mission they all have in common?

J'ai pas envie de faire tout ça moi. On m'a jetée dans ce truc quand j'étais même pas un être conscient, comment on encaisse cet enfer quand c'est même pas nous qui l'avons choisi ? Nan j'ai pas envie. Et puis j'suis fatiguée, genre anéanti. J'en ai

J'suis pas une fille moi j'suis une comète 🎶

I think about you all the time you know. The way you laughed so hard it almost hurt my ears, the way you'd take my hand and lead me through the dark streets that used to terrify me, the way you didn't care, the way you cared so much, the way you hate

Its day 9. Apparently I just can not for the life of me metabolise enough serotonin for my brain to function properly. I'm tired. My mood is low today. I really wanna cry.

It's day 6. Technically the peak of the worst of the symptoms should be around now. And then I guess it should progressively get better over the span of two weeks. I am holding onto that information for dear life. This is hard. It doesn't feel good.

I can do this myself, she said. It'll be easy, she said. I can handle this, she said. Dumbass. I randomly burst into tears yesterday. Well, not really randomly. This is also, unsurprisingly, a withdrawal symptom. I guess for the past five years my em

It's day 4 of being off my meds. Completely. I was supposed to do it progressively but the joys of living in a medical desert fucked me over again. So I thought fuck it, I'm gonna go cold turkey. Apart from pseudo vertigos, occasional chills, muscle

Man I hate it here. Every day I learn something new and fucked up about the world or about myself, it's like opening presents and every single one is a pair of shitty socks.

I used to think I was kind, generous, obliging, flexible. And I am all those things. But over time, kindness has turned to compliance, flexibility has turned to folding myself in ten to make sure I don't upset anyone, and in the end, passivity. Passi

Head empty, heart fucking exploding.

Seriously, why the FUCK do I keep dreaming of a bus?

And the spiral continues. Down and down we go, me myself and I, in a dizzying waltz. Hand in hand, a dance of war and contradiction. One step forward, two steps back, and we spin and spin and spin and spin and spin. Cold wind passes through us, dark