Giving thanks 2 days late

I like to attempt to post what I've been thankful for that year every Thanksgiving. It is dumb, but it helps me remember when my life was less than the best, when I thought it would be better to die.

This year I haven't, because while a lot has changed, it is still mostly the same.
I live with my best friend, who helps me more than he will ever know, even when we fight.
I have 2 jobs, one just because I love it, and I am working on getting my life on track much better this year than previous years.
I still fight most days to get out of bed to go to work, or get errands or housework done, and I often lose that battle when it doesn't come to work.
I still hate myself a little more every time I don't actually get done what I plan to get done, and idiotically sulk more when it happens, so other stuff doesn't get done.

I am still trying. I'm not perfect. I don't see a lot of my life as a problem until I view it from the perspective of people who grew up differently than I did. I often need the somber reality checks that break my heart, because they push me to fight more than a request or hateful threat will. They push me to be better when I want to wallow in the misery that threatens my life daily. But they also add to the pain in my heart that makes wallowing so simple.

I am lucky. I'm not in a loving relationship, my family is full of bullshit games, and I pretty consistently am on the verge of not being able to afford to live on my own. I have little siblings who love and look up to me, and some of the best friends you could ever meet who remind me that I am loveable and worthwhile, even though I'm stubborn. If that doesn't make me lucky, I don't know what could.

Killing me slowly, bc softly is a lie

You know, I'm a fuck up. I fuck things up. I don't try very hard at things too often because I'm pretty sure that I will fuck it up.

It took damn near six months to clean out his room. There isn't an excuse for it. I didn't do it because I let other things be more important, and that is wrong. But I'm trying. And the moment I start trying, he decided he was done. He tried to leave tonight, and I couldn't let him because it was breaking my heart more than normal. It breaks my heart that he doesn't want me to be his person on a daily basis. But the idea of him leaving, and I can't function. I start to bawl, and best friend or not, he doesn't get to see when he breaks my heart. So I ran away. I ran outside and broke. I cried until I was numb from cold, and I will lay in my bed and cry some more. This isn't how this is supposed to work. It just isn't.

I can't have my best friend give up on me when the rest of the world could give a fuck less. I can't. I won't make it through that. That's not being over dramatic. Its just the truth.