I’m alone at three in the morning. I haven’t rung J to let him know I am feeling awful: too much programming in the way. I’ve lied to my mother about feeling “ok” now, and that I will get up in the morning and “face the day”. I have been on an online counselling service, which wasn’t great.
I am out of options.
What can I do next? I don’t have a clue. My usual method of writing hasn’t worked. My efforts to calm myself down haven’t worked. I don’t want to wake up my flatmates, because they have enough on their plates already.
I am feeling very unsafe.
I want to do something really stupid. I want to neck a whole bottle of alcohol, or slice my arms and legs with the sharpest knife I can find, sitting in the bath, until I can’t lift the knife. I want to cry again but all my tears are gone.
I want to die again.
I don’t want to die…. because I should be here for my friends and family and for J. However, today I am not me. I am in pain. I am programmed, I am listening to my stupid fucking dark passenger, and I want to cut.
I don’t know what to do to feel better. I don’t want to relapse. I want to sleep and forget and not have nightmares or paranoia or flashbacks any more.
I am exhausted but there is no chance of me sleeping.
What if I just cut a little?
That’s cheating. I am four and a half months clean. I would break my record.
Who am I keeping it for? Me? J? My family?
Tonight I don’t know. Tonight I feel unreal.
I just want to know everything will be ok. I suppose right now it isn’t, and it never will be.
Therapy in four months? I could be worse by then, or dead or something. I feel emotionless typing that. The only thing I feel is the guilt and unease that my ex used to cause when I couldn’t contact him: that saving up of anger for the big storm.
I’m getting sick again, and I want to be how I was in America with J.
Apparently I’m not allowed that. All I am allowed is pain and death and anxiety and paranoia and hallucinations and PTSD and whatever mood disorder I have on top of that and the fucking voices and memories of abuse that go on and on and on and never let me rest.
I am sick of life like this. I just want to be better. Is that too much to ask?