Vent

It’s been a while since I last posted anything, but today something happened—something I think I could even call traumatic—involving my parents and my dog. Sometimes I think that if I were to commit suicide, I might reincarnate as the son of Jane the Killer (silly, I know—I’ve always been silly; everyone says so) and as a cisgender man... which, in my mind, would be great. Today, I cried and had an outburst of rage; I pounded on the wall until my fists turned red and started to ache. Sometimes I don’t even want to leave my room to eat or drink water; sometimes I don’t even shower; sometimes I lose interest in the things I’m hyper-fixated on; and sometimes I even start to hate my own friends. My arms are covered in blood from this episode—I suppose I’m just being dramatic. Maybe I should just ignore it.