On Wednesday I didn’t show up to a class I’m taking because I couldn’t fathom socializing.

I’ve loved going to the class. I missed the topic I was looking forward to the most.

Yesterday I canceled all plans for today. And next week. Save for a bachelorette party I can’t imagine attending. That’s next on the list.

Last night I wondered if I was meant to make it to next week.

I stopped responding to friends texts this week. It’s too overwhelming to try to respond in a way that doesn’t make me an asshole friend, but also doesn’t cause worry.

I woke up with a migraine this morning and any thoughts of amending yesterdays mission to completely isolate myself are already long gone.

Every appointment and plan I canceled I did as tears were streaming down my face. Guilt is staggering–what will relieve guilt will inevitably poorly affect my well-being, but I refuse to keep adding to financial stress. I tried to convince myself I am giving myself too much credit for familial foundational fractures. But it became a failing effort and instead I convinced myself that I am very responsible and the cause for an enormous amount of stress that I can easily and quickly relieve: stop all mental health supports.

At least there will always be words. 

 

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