Almost forgot I had a Bluesky account. Though there's not much use for it here, at best it just allows me to post without having to use Chinese.

Four months apart, aged another year, and not much progress otherwise.
My Chinese seems to have worsened a bit. The last time I hung out, I was, actually, questioned if it was my native language.
One thing remains constant: I still want to say to my ex, 'Can't we start over?'
That hasn't changed.

Quite haggard, or more precise, I’m fleeing drained.
I used to question why others were reluctant to lend a helping hand when someone was in need, but now I realize how torturous it is to get along with someone who is at his low ebb.

There's a tendency to reach for a drink in times of low spirits, though the reason behind it remains elusive.
Two cans in, a subtle dizziness set in, and for reasons unclear to me, I went ahead and tacked on three more, around 3 a.m.
That made it a total of five. End of conversation.

#NewProfilePicture

Though it may appear unsightly, it's a testament to my ability to embrace a smile.

I desperately need it!

Honestly, cutting offers momentary relief.

The pain reassures the existence, dispelling thoughts of seeking death. (The drawback is explaining a jacket on a 30-degree midday.)

Desperately seeking an alternative of anxiety relief, but self-harm remains the quickest solace in this moment.

The overwhelming sense of helplessness that appears to have swept in is, perhaps, where I am currently situated. I hope this signifies the climax, the zenith of this bout of depression.

Though I may not always possess the gift of comforting words, I find myself deeply drawn to quietly accompanying those in their moments of vulnerability.

I conjecture that there’s an ineffable power in silent companionship. At the end of the day, or, after all, in my experience, it often suffices.

I've reached the blue sky!