i'm back! did you miss me? bet you missed me.

Wish i could say i stopped updating for a few months because i had nothing bad happening. sadly it was the opposite!!! i have been more depressed recently then i have been in a long, long time. shit sucks. shit is bad. i have hit a new rock bottom. i'm surprisingly good at doing that.

its a bit frightening when i get so genuinley depressed i cannot talk about it. I'm not very healthy mentally, so usually when i get depressed i lean into it because feeling shitty is kinda the only comfort ive ever known. But this has been too much. Its just anguish. Nothing is really comforting about how fucked i am right now. i usually have hope for life, even at my worst, the tiniest hope that life has good things left for me, its a little spark on the horizon that keeps me moving. That spark isn't gone, but it has been getting crushed. finding genuine reasons to doubt life has anything good left for you can crush you, and it crushed me. and i'm not going to say what thos reasons are, because fuck, they're still sore, and i still haven't worked them out. I was scared i'd either kill myself or just break completley, so i went through with something i have been terrified of for so, so long.
I'm getting help.

I know its bad i didn't reach out for help as soon as i could. It is selfish. I am a professional at whatever you call this behaviour. self-defeating, self-pitying crywanking. beating my methaphorical penis at the idea of people going "OOOH MAN!! OHHH LUKE!! YOU'RE SO SAD!! YOU HAVE IT SO MUCH WORSE THAN US!! PLEASE, OH PLEASE LET US LICK THE SWEAT OFF YOUR BEAUTIFUL ABS AS YOU CRY ABOUT HOW YOUR MOM THREW A CHAIR AT YOU FOR THE 20TH TIME!!!". you get the idea. Why do you think i'd make a website to wax poetic about whatever happened to me as a child? I know i have a reason to complain, i have trauma, i have issues, but i don't just complain, i seek validation. i beat myself up and cry about it to earn pity points, because nobody ever listened to me. and that can be fucking infuriating for anyone to deal with. But i also know i'm not a bad person for being this way. I had no access to help before 5 months ago anyway, so what could i do until then but find comfort in my own suffering? The idea of parting with the pain that has moulded me into who i am was terrifying. i am still living under the roof of my abuser too, and i'd be an idiot to NOT mention how scared i was of her finding out i was seeking help. But it seemed the suffering had other plans and went
"oh yeah you little cuck? you want me so bad? i'll show you love the way your mother taught it to you!"
and proceeded to make my mind so self-despising i became a barely functioning mess of a person.

so yeah. help. that. i'm getting that. and it has given that little spark something to feed on again.

it's funny to think, this blog is only about a week or so away from being a year old, and i'm getting help now. I'm planning to keep writing here, obviously to vent, but also to doccument my recovery.
Maybe one day, if i get better, i'll be able to look back on this and smile.