I fucked up. A lot. Repeatedly.

It took me a long time to realize what I did. Which sounds so stupid but it's the truth. I knew my actions but I didn't truly understand why they were the wrong ones. I do now. There's no amount of apologizing that could ever be enough. But if I don't occasionally let it out, I'll just let it fester within me until my next breakdown. Yes, next. It was always obviously I didn't have great mental health.

In any case, I seriously messed up. And my biggest regret was hurting you, betraying you really.

Here are the facts as they are: I made a lot of bad decisions. Way too many to be honest. I won't try to excuse my behavior because there is none. But here are the things that some people don't realize were going on behind the scenes: I'm now a recovering alcoholic. Which isn't surprising if anyone expected my drinking two years ago. But I'm sober, nearly 1.5 years. I also have an official diagnosis of chronic depression and generalized anxiety disorder. Which I'm finally medicated for. Thank you Welbutrin. I was manic for most of my early 20s and spent a lot of it disassociating frequently. I wouldn't say I'm fully okay now but I'm by far a lot better. I still struggle but there isn't the constant worry of my unaliving myself.

A lot has happened in the past 4 or so years, including an entire fucking pandemic.

I lost track of this. If I'm being honest, it's 3am, I'm sleep deprived and on edge constantly. So me losing track of what this was supposed to be isn't surprising.

Long story short, I'm sorry. And I'm glad you seem to be doing great. I always hoped best for you and it seems like you achieved that. I'm honestly so happy for you. I used to hear chatter that I was holding you back, maybe they were right.

Ignore that. Am I truly me if I don't throw in one last dig at myself? (Let's be real, the doctor can throw all the meds at me he wants to, he'll never be able to make me not absolutely hate myself. But that's my problem, not anyone else's.)

I think I'm gonna leave it at that. I might post this but I'm really not fully sure if I should. But I want to. If only to get it fully off my chest. Kinda like when I used to write in my journal.

(Jeez this is a mess. I might be physically unable to not ramble, even when it's not verbal.)

I hope your life continues to go well and you are happy. (I won't pretend I don't miss you, cuz I do. But that doesn't matter.)

P.S. I never got a chance to tell you but uh I'm Non-binary (they/them wasaup) and Poly. I've got two partners. (Jazz and her fiancee Bea). Oh and I'm still super fucking gay.

Farewell and Best wishes,

Mal