It’s not just the Monday blues for me. It’s the return of suicidal thoughts after a weekend of reprieve if I’m lucky.
I like ✝️ dressing, wearing her cute undies, they hold my litte manhood so nice.
Nobody cares about me and I wish no one had ever lied and said they did. It hurts so much some days that I can barely breathe. I don’t know how to break away from being dependent and learn how to show up for myself when everyone else has always failed to. I don’t know how anyone does anything. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make it in this world alone and I hate myself for it. I am a leech and a burden.
