Nothing fazes me anymore. I'm going on a trip to Bermuda tomorrow and am just dreading it. I secretly hope the plane crashes. At the same time, the smallest things set me off. I feel like my therapist doesn't like me because of how difficult I am, although he keeps trying to assure me that isn't the case. I just can't see things his way, and it's prevented me from progressing in therapy. I feel exempt from the gestures of hope he gives me, like they don't apply to me. I often think of mistakes and failures I've made in the past. I wake up with them. It makes it hard to get out of bed. But I remember all the things I could have done differently, and maybe things would have worked out. As it stands, I'm 23, live at home, have withdrawn from all friends, and lost my love interest, who doesn't even have any interest in talking to me. My life consists of going from appointment to appointment, and sometimes hospitalizing myself, which I think I'll do very soon. Everyone agrees I should get ECT because I'm not responding well to drugs or therapy, so I'm scheduled for it on the 29th of this month, which happens to be my birthday. My heart is heavy and my brain is warped. I don't know why I haven't offed myself yet. But I'd feel bad about the mess I'd make.