Today is the day. While everyone is congratulating a new adult into the world, I’m stuck in a hole, rewinding back exactly one year. The day I chose to die. “Suicide on your sisters birthday?” Yes. No one remembers. They’re all too busy taking all the oxygen talking about scratch off tickets and adulthood. No one remembers, that it’s been a year. A year of useless efforts to recovery. A year of the same sick darkness that overwhelms me. It’s been a year, and nothing has changed except the number of scars I’ve added to the collection on my arms.
I’m having a rough night.
That reading for class fucked me over. Reading about what they went through? It brought it all back. And painfully so. It hurts so much. Like I’m still there.
I don’t have my blades to fix it either. I cut last night. Then I lost them.
And I had three small cookies today. About 800 cal all day.
I’m just feeling a lot right now. And I don’t really know how to help myself.