So anyway.
This is how things have been,
Iffy
Horrible
Better
Horrible
Better
Even Better
Nearly back to normal
So close to happiness
Hell
Pain
Torture
Death
Thats the jist of it. Without being at all specific.
And all I can do is sit and think and try with everything I have. Not to just. Explode. Not to shoot myself in the heart. Not to die.
I really am trying.
Its been three days of this. But I guess in reality its been longer. But maybe this is just the acknowledgement of it.
I really am trying.
With no real avail.
Its better when I'm in your arms. I'm too distracted by you to think bad thoughts. But now, when I'm alone. I'm thinking of all of the knives and blades that are still in my room.
Its been almost a year.
But its been really tough recently. And I'm not sure I'm that strong. I'm not sure I can do this, and be okay and go on.
I want to.
Believe me, I do.
I've never wanted anything more.
But I have a problem with letting things go. And I think this is going to be big deal, for awhile.
How much longer can I do this?
Its not getting easier.
Because I keep thinking. And talking. And I know I'm killing myself.
I know you made it through this too. But somehow, it seems much worse on this end.