Why am I doing this?
I slept for a month last night, and woke up the same way I always do: amazed that I'm still alive. It's quite an achievment for me, waking up and not being dead.
I've been trying really hard not to kill myself, and it's been three years since my last (direct) attempt. But I'm bored of trying not to try. It's exhausting. All my energy is expended on surviving.
I need to find some skin that fits, maybe I can sew my own out of these remnants...