I’m really not in a good place. I have been crying for the past two hours. I’ve walked around every room in apartment talking myself down.
I’ve screamed into my pillow. I’ve taken meds to calm me down. I’ve cuddled with my little fur baby. It’s all failed.
I’m panicking. I need help. I’m here. Alone. Shaking. Sobbing. Talking to myself and listing reasons why committing suicide right now is not a good idea. My brain is screaming opposition.
“This knife that’s in your hand is perfect. A deep, swift motion and then lie down with your blanket.” says my brain.
I just stare at it, sobbing.
“You got a lot of yummy crunchy pills sitting right over there. They are all yours. So go get a big glass of water and take them and then voila!!! The sleep you have been needing for quite awhile now.”
I want to bang my head against the wall to get this to stop. I cannot cope. I can’t keep up. I can’t keep going.
I just can’t do anything. I am nothing more than a crumpled up mess that is not even coherent enough to make a phone call.