So, I am totally in a spiral of self-hatred, dissociation and shame. I have been stuck in my house for about 2 months (?) basically eating and watching Netflix and whatever I torrent off the internet. I am not in a good place. And no matter how I say it here, I will sound better than I actually am. I am not good. 3 weeks ago, if I had a gun, I probably would have killed myself. Ironically, only my depression stopped my suicide. It was too much work to plan the whole fucking thing, so I slept instead.
I have been watching and "fangirl" ing this TV show I like- Sherlock on BBC. It is about Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson in the present. Dr. Watson is a ptsd guy from the Afghanistan war, and he shacks up with Sherlock to solve crimes. What I love about the show is that Dr. Watson is just like me. He has nothing, no love, no passion, nothing to live for and as he says in episode 1 to his therapist (!) "nothing ever happens to me." And then he randomly becomes flatmates with Sherlock and his life begins. GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDDd. Please let that happen to me. I have nothing, no life, nothing. I feel I am unworthy of even a tumblr account. I want a Sherlock to come save me. And I will be the practical human being to his sociopathic/neutral good/asperger's bx. I just need to be saved.
The beauty of the show Sherlock is basically that they fall in love with each other, without either one knowing what the fuck to do about it. So they stay platonic work partners that spend every fucking waking moment with each other. I would be happy with even this fucked up codependent relationship.
I just need help. Help.. I need love. And companionship. But I need to save myself, because no one else can save me. The idea of a Sherlock is beautiful, but misguided. I have to be my own Sherlock. I have to save myself.
PS. After at least a year and a half of abstaining, I got drunk tonight at a lesbian bar and talked to some women. I even sort of have plans for later in the week. And let me tell you, I would trade (and did) all the sobriety in the world to have a life. and friendship. So there.
I have been watching and "fangirl" ing this TV show I like- Sherlock on BBC. It is about Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson in the present. Dr. Watson is a ptsd guy from the Afghanistan war, and he shacks up with Sherlock to solve crimes. What I love about the show is that Dr. Watson is just like me. He has nothing, no love, no passion, nothing to live for and as he says in episode 1 to his therapist (!) "nothing ever happens to me." And then he randomly becomes flatmates with Sherlock and his life begins. GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDDd. Please let that happen to me. I have nothing, no life, nothing. I feel I am unworthy of even a tumblr account. I want a Sherlock to come save me. And I will be the practical human being to his sociopathic/neutral good/asperger's bx. I just need to be saved.
The beauty of the show Sherlock is basically that they fall in love with each other, without either one knowing what the fuck to do about it. So they stay platonic work partners that spend every fucking waking moment with each other. I would be happy with even this fucked up codependent relationship.
I just need help. Help.. I need love. And companionship. But I need to save myself, because no one else can save me. The idea of a Sherlock is beautiful, but misguided. I have to be my own Sherlock. I have to save myself.
PS. After at least a year and a half of abstaining, I got drunk tonight at a lesbian bar and talked to some women. I even sort of have plans for later in the week. And let me tell you, I would trade (and did) all the sobriety in the world to have a life. and friendship. So there.
