RambleLamb

I know that I'm probably hurting a lot of you by not responding to your comments and messages, I'm not doing it to be rude and I don't want you to think I don't care or appreciate you, it's just that conversation is really hard for me right now.

I have news about what's going on with me. I'm moving soon, within the next few days probably. There have been conversations that I was not involved in until the decision was made for me by my aunt and cousin regarding my situation. For a refresher, my situation is that I'm paralyzed, down a leg, depressed, suicidal, I've been hearing and seeing things that shouldn't be real, I don't sleep, I started drinking again after being sober for a little over five years, all the things that make me a treat to be around. Anyway, the decision was made that I would move in with my aunt and she and my cousin would basically tag team taking care of me.

My suggestion that they both fuck off and let me spiral out of control was soundly rejected. The point was made that I can't properly take care of myself now that I can't work, can't walk, can't control my bodily functions, yeah, on top of everything I'm also incontinent now which is basically just the icing on the cake.

I spend all my time in her room. Her bed smells like her and one of my pillows smells like the girl I was seeing so I just lay in the bed and hold those pillows and cry. I talk to them and cry. I see them and cry.

I wasn't conscious in the car before they got us out and I went to the hospital, but I see them in the apartment. Roommate is bent in unnatural ways, she's never right in front of me, always just kind of on the fringe but I know it's her because even though she talks to me and her voice is thick and wet sounding, she's still her. She asks me why I'm trying to live without her, why I spend all my time clinging to the things she left behind and the memories of her when I could be with her just by giving up. She makes giving up sound natural and wonderful but when I have the pills or the razor in my hand I freeze up and just shut down.

The girl I was seeing doesn't tell me to give up on life, she just mocks me. She's much harder to listen to because her voice comes out of the gash in her throat and there's this flapping, crackling sound every time she talks and it scares me. She tells me that I get to live my ridiculous fantasy life now, being a helpless and pathetic baby trapped in a woman's body. She laughs at me laying on the bed crying when I smell what I've done in my diaper, her laughter is gurgly and awful and no matter what I do I can't block it out.

TL;DR: I'm apparently in the middle of either a complete mental breakdown or a haunting and neither are great things. I'm well on my way to becoming a horrible parody of the worst ABDL stories I've ever read. I am days away from suffering more humiliation and indignity than I can possibly begin to imagine. I'm still terrible at killing myself. I have a lot of people pulling for me and sending me love and support but none of it is tangible and I hate that. I hate feeling so incredibly grateful that people care about me but remain alone and suffering. 

*sigh* Anyway, I've whined and moped as much as I care to. I'll try and send out some messages before it gets dark, they tend to show up more at night for whatever reason.