That should be the title of my autobiography. That or “Waiting for people to stop dicking around on the leg press”. Both equally sum up my general experience of living.

I got upset and made an oopsy. Not a big oopsy. Just a little one.

I took 2mg of Ativan when I’m supposed to take 0.5-1mg. Not a huge deal, but I’ll probably be falling asleep and spacing out all day tomorrow. This post may become unintelligible soon, but again, 2mg isn’t that much, so maybe not.

I feel like my body knows when I’ve taken things I shouldn’t have, because I am fairly nauseous. And even thinking about ODing makes me want to throw up sometimes.

Anyways, maybe I should get to what made me so upset. I mentioned feeling down earlier, and that feeling continued into the evening. At one point, my roommate started messaging me about how shitty she’s been feeling this past week, and how she wants to die. I’m always a shit person when my roommate has issues. It makes me unbearably anxious when anybody around me has a problem, so I tell myself they’re faking it for attention, and then I get to be mad instead of anxious. I caught myself doing that, but I’ve been able to keep it pretty rational. Whatever, that’s not relevant to the story. What set me off was my roommate’s boyfriend coming over to comfort her.

I know she is having a hard time. But I am so unbelievably jealous that she has somebody to comfort her when she’s upset and I don’t. I used to have that. Now I just feel like I’m drowning sometimes and nobody gives a fuck. And I know you can be in a relationship and still have problems, but I have the irrational feeling that everybody in a relationship should shut the fuck up about their problems because some of us are suffering alone. Some of us deal with everything you deal with, just without anybody who gives the tiniest shit about us. Do you know what I would give to have that?

I feel I should specify that I am not jealous because I want her boyfriend in particular. Not only am I fairly certain I’m gay at this point, but Kyle and I have a strange relationship. Our conversations are brief and a hybrid of mild discomfort and amicable joking. And I know more about his sex life and particularly his penis than I would prefer. It’s just what he represents.

Ugh, but I literally could have taken a half milligram or even a milligram and gotten the same effect without feeling like shit tomorrow. Oh well, live and learn.

I think this post is much more well-written than I expected it to be. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and change my mind, but that’s tomorrow Sarah’s problem.

Good night, homo sapiens



2 thoughts on “Whoops

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