Self harming with excessive sugar.
Because that is how well I am handling my life.
Trying to sort travel documents made me so stressed that I was physically sick. I am proving much less up to humaning than I thought, and my opinion of my capacity hadn't been so high.
And the weird young guy who lives on the other side of my bedroom wall, who I have spoken to possibly only once in the time he has lived there, has landed himself a little Asian boyfriend and they are being disgustingly happy. It is rubbing in my general bitterness about how shit my relationship is.
Also, I was going through old texts in a failed attempt to find a friends postal address, and I found I was promising to sort stuff with the semi-imaginary one in 2015 that I still haven't actually managed to discuss.
It is shit, and it is my fault for having not addressed stuff more than three years ago that was eating at my sanity then. I am too broken and I let the relationship end up all broken too because I am useless to have fixed it back when I should have. Now it is probably too late.
Off to eat more sugar. Got to help the diabetes to kill me.
If I am dead then I don't have to sort travel documents as I will be too dead to go anywhere.
My NZ passport arrived, things should be easy now. But no. My dual citizenship is seriously kicking me in the arse.
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