I’m having a sesh and listening to Weezer.
It’s no longer whimsy and mystical.
I’m 41.
It’s… sad
Diagnosis really fucked me in the ass. It was glaringly obvious but I function “enough” to slip by until I burnout. And thats usually when I burn it all down. Quit jobs. Relationships. Forget dreams.
I always thought I was a flake.
Now I know why.
And while I like to know - in ways it’s taking from my children. I’m different now.
I’m disengaged and I don’t know how to plug back in.
I’m auperfickenhigh So I don’t know if any of this makes sense. Ah well.
Let it be.
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