That's not true. But I hate a lot right now. I hate my job; I hate my apartment... I think I hate my life.
I am not stable right now. At all. I don't know if this is just the down cycle of some mental illness that I've yet to be diagnosed with or if last month just really threw me off or if I'm just uber sensitive right now for no real reason. Whatever it is, I'm wound tighter than a harp string and I'm about to snap. I haven't left work in the last two weeks without bursting into tears at least once per shift. I sit at home sobbing at the thought of having to go back because I just know that Mike and Brandi are going to try and make my life a living hell, and when they're around, everyone else is an asshole and I'm going to be ditched on the busiest station in the kitchen by myself and get yelled at by management because the food isn't coming out fast enough and there's just nothing I can do about any of it.
I'm sitting here sobbing and shaking as I'm typing this and I just want it to stop... I want everything to stop and I want to wake up and have it be some horrific nightmare that's over... or I want to fall asleep and just never wake up. I don't want to do this anymore and I don't want to be here or be me or know that I even exist... I'd give anything at this point to be an acid flashback or a character in a book that everyone just suddenly gets sick of reading about and burns the book for any number of stupid reasons that people burn books.
And now I just want to sleep. and I'm back to hoping that I don't wake up in the morning and I fucking hate it.
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