i’m falling fast and falling hard.
i’m losing control again and it worries me. well … it worries some part of me. some part of me cares. some part of me doesn’t. some part of me wants to give up completely, while another part tries hard to cling on and do the right things.
my diary card tells the sorry tale in its tiny boxes. i’ve given in to every urge i’m meant to fight. i’m swallowing xanax like they are going out of fashion. i’ve been badly cutting and burning myself every day. i even drank a bottle of vodka the other night.
that one bothers me the most if i’m being honest. i don’t want to go back there. i don’t want to start drinking again. i don’t want to turn into my mother again.
none of it helps. these fucked up coping methods … they aren’t even helping me cope. they are perhaps keeping me from doing something worse, but i don’t even know about that any more.
i am scared of how far and how fast i have fallen. i don’t want to be back here. i don’t know what to do.
i don’t know why this has happened. my therapist always thinks there has to be a reason. the last day i saw her we traced some of it back to something that triggered me. maybe that is part of the reason but it isn’t the whole story. i just always end up like this. any up time must be paid for. right now i’m really really paying.
this doesn’t feel like something dbt skills can work for. it is more than that.
i think this is just how it goes with me. always a crash.
i couldn’t drag myself out of bed until well past lunch today. i was awake. i had been awake all night. awake and crying as silently as i could. i couldn’t get up today and face people. i don’t have the energy to put on a front and i can’t let them know how bad i am again.
it kills me when they know i’m not ok. i don’t want them to know anything.