Crying on the street after confronting the private, outsourced visa company was not on my bucket list. It would be funny if it was not so mundane - but I had to overanalyze every slight body language and had to realise then and there that I had to travel to fuck all and be all alone again. Had to stutter with my words and feel like a tied knot because I had the audacity to stand up for myself and complain that I have waited way too long to get my fucking passport back.

Crying because I feel like my stimulant isn’t working. Which fucking sucks because I spent a large sum for travelling. The fucken meds. Makes me calm sometimes, but sometimes just makes the self-hatred more lucid and center stage. And the “crash”, - reminded me of my lowest days in high school. I told myself, it’s fine, I just have to tolerate its side effects until my supply’s done and can try another.

Crying because I crossed a boundary that my therapist had tried to push towards: opening up and accepting support from the people that hurt me the most: my own parents.

Crying because I feel both like a kid and an adult at the same fucking time.

And yet, feeling like shit, my heart breaking - realising I may have to actually be fully vulnerable with my parents for once - and the drug-fuelled anxiety simmering beneath, I still don’t wanna escape this life I live in.

Why the fuck would I? My own life, the only thing I have. Still feels shit most of the time, but there’s that annoying shithead voice that says: so what? You had a tough life. This is apart of it. You have handled worse. Still would not want it any other way.

For most of my life I dissociated. Life was merely a series of pictures and I was the audience. From birth to now. Never felt like I was in the driver’s seat.

Adult diagnosed Autism and ADHD. Figured that out just this year. Before, I “just” had GAD and SAD - which I also had to practically self-diagnose and asked to see a doctor.

The shrink said crying is a good release. Figures I had to do it in public. And yet, the world continues to spin, everything feels bad now, but apparently I am too stubborn to go back to feeling nothing and holding it all in.

Clawing on the floor and struggling, but I know it will happen. I will change. I will improve.

And I know it to be true because I already have.