You know, sometimes I think to myself how much easier everything would be if I would just stop being me and let an alter run my life. My alters seems to be way more wise than I could ever be. They also have more of a sense of direction while I have trouble getting up in the morning. I wish so hard that one day I'll come to be a good person with an excellent job and a future, but it's hard knowing you need pills to make you normal. Or knowing I have 5 different people in my head just waiting for their chance to take my life over. It's exhausting.
Today is September 11th. I lived in New York. My mom was across the street. I am amazingly lucky to have my mother and my brother, who attended school a few streets down. I am blessed to have everything in life. Blessed to have a chance at something. To be something. I take so much shit for granted. But one thing I could never take for granted is myself. I look down upon myself because of my mental illness and it's not okay. I try so hard.
I'm beginning to sound like an ungrateful bitch. Tbh, I don't even know why I'm writing. I've gone through 3 unrelated topics in one post. I think I'm done for now.
Sorry for the rant.
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