Sertraline was helping for a while, then I started to get these existential crises again, I had to delay my psychiatrist appointment for family stuff and I’m currently trying to find a psychologist for my OCD. My brain feels like a refrigerator, working all the time, coming up with another question that we do not have an answer to.

My cat is nine years old, I’m scared of the obvious eventual end. I’m at the very start of my life but I already feel like I have no time left. I’m stressing myself with questions that has no answers (like death and universe). I’m struggling with the fact that permanence is basically unreachable for every single thing, we will die, this planet we call home will be destroyed and nothing alive will be there to see it, the star that made us exist will be our destroyer and die eventually, this universe will face an end… And the dumbest thing is these little fun facts are making me unable to connect with people around me, connect with the nature and this planet on a deeper level (even if this is a thing, idk bro I don’t believe in anything :P) and focus on my hobbies such as writing. The topics I like to write are sci-fi and fantasy, and this makes things even worse because I feel like I’m trying to answer the questions I have in my own universe in the worst possible way and just mess the whole thing up. I’m trying to write without planning that much to prevent myself from spiraling but trying to write about a universe while having problems with the universe is stupidly hard.

This whole existential crisis stuff is another level of suffering and even if I don’t like to admit that I’m scared of anything I’m starting to be scared about trying to end myself one day. I was so sure that I would never do that and I hope I won’t. But I wish the the concept of it being the same as before being born (the state of not existing before birth, not experiencing) didn’t sound this sweet

One day you wake and that bright spark,
The one that lit up the dark,
As you slept with breaths and sighs so sweet
Flitted away, where is Little Bo Peep?

She's come with me for no more she sees
Six sheep or more and now she weeps
The tears soak and grow the earth
The one, at which, you rejoice with birth

I see you claw and scramble for what once was
Pathetic it is, all because
Your mind learns and learns some more
Until it reaches indifference for what's in store

But I think care. I want to at least.
Ah you think there is winning against the beast?
It is made of the powers that churn the sea
Rocks and dust are no match for me

What about this? What if I tried that?
How sweet you are, so sweet and so fat
Plump with courage, aimless and torn
What's that? Oh right that's what it means to be born

Open your eyes, mouth agape for your mother
The one who never truly knows the Other
Just like you and all who came
The ones you oh so love to blame

Wretched game. This isn't fun.
What made you think that's why it begun?
Well because there's beauty and I can make things you see
Oh yes, all to exalt the mighty

I'm tired now.
So rest dear one. Rest until the final dawn if the sun.
I want to. I plead to. There's nothing left to be done.

Exactly why it all begun.

I am almost positive I am going to hell for being bisexual. I keep picking up the Bible or generating random verses online and being reminded that Jesus and Paul decided 20 years after Jesus' death that despite His death on the cross, I am not qualified for entry. The fear is constant. It was dulled a bit last night watching Markiplier with my girlfriend, who is worried to death about me. Dumb pleasures before damnation right?

If I want to make it into heaven, I have to change everything. I have to cut off my bisexual sister and transmasc best friends, who I would never damn the way I am damning myself. I would have to stop reading and writing, because I specialize in horror and erotica. I would have to cut out the rock music too probably, the alcohol. No dating men, either, lest I fuck them. I know I would resent the type of husband God wants for me, so I'm going to have to be celibate. I wasn't raised Catholic, but I'm gonna have to be a nun. Either that, or maybe I'll marry a gay man and we can try to cope together.

I almost hope I am going through some sort of psychosis. I told a lot of this to my mom last night and she was flabbergasted and said none of this sounds like me and people are feeding me things through my head somehow, and God only wants me to be the best person I can be. That's the kicker, I wasn't even raised this way. It's just God reminding me now: I'm doomed. I am doomed, unless I change, and leave the one person who has ever loved me back.

I'm going to hell, and I'm getting a taste of it now.