I’m losing my mind.
It’s strange knowing. Sometimes I know. I think. Other times I think whatever I am thinking is normal, even when on some level I maybe know it is not. Spock says I get worse as the sun goes down. Sun Downers. And worse when I am alone. This means Spock is either trapped to constantly stay with me or he has to get me a “baby sitter”.
I try to convince him to put me in some sort of facility where he will no longer be so burdened with me. But if one thing has remained the same, it is that Spock remains very stubborn.
We will not be separated.
So he says. And so we will not be. Until I unburden him with my death. Whenever that is.