Am I going back to the same place that I was at a couple of months ago? More stress than I can deal with? I feel like I’m reaching my breaking point but I’m too weak to even reach out for anything or anyone. I just want to finish it off, finish me off, be done with it. I don’t want to do this whole stuff anymore and one of the reasons for not eating is probably (surely?) that I just can’t take it anymore. So might as well just ignore all of it… only that’s not the way I was raised. I was raised in a way to say “push through and don’t complain”. So I’m not complaining, at least not to people (well, there are none anyways). I’m only complaining to myself, to this blog, complaining to my body and treating it badly. And I know I should go back to my thesis but I just can’t get myself to open the document and start typing. Although that is essentially all I have to do. So… go back and type. Go back and type. Go back and… type….
I wish there was someone to lean onto, someone to turn to and look at, someone who would smile at me and hold me and be there. But there is no one. There used to be for a brief while, for three days, and now that is what I miss, if that can even be described as missing someone. I miss the feeling of safety and not being alone. But that’s fine. It’s life. Life = lonely.
Tried to stab myself with a knife today. I managed to poke a small hole in my stomach but that was it. I didn’t even have the guts to do it right. Next time? Who knows…? I want to scream, I want to scream and be heard. Last time I did I got myself admitted to the hospital. That won’t happen again for sure… so I won’t scream. There’s no point. Useless.
Back to thesis. Back to thesis.