(Excerpt from my diary, July 3rd 2026.)
Mental illness.
I Never liked that term.
‘Illness’ implies a cure, implies I could come back fine, implies I could be like nothing ever happened.
I find it hard to imagine a world where every mental illness could be cured.
Mental cancer is closer to whatever I have. A plague. A disease. A virus consuming my rotting corpse as I lie in bed each day.
Waiting, watching, wondering how much longer until my inevitable death.
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꒰Ryo꒱
Ngh