I do have bad days, it's true.
Those days (that lead to weeks/months) I can't get out of bed to wash, feed, work or function.
Those days i curl up for hours on end hoping for the sleeping pill and diazepam combo to kick in so the demons in my head will rest too and I get a little respite from loathing every fibre of my being.
Those days when I have to fight not to hurt myself by cutting or punching myself, battering my head off walls, binging and purging, doing anything, ANYTHING to hurt myself.
Today I drank knowing i'd hurt myself. Something I've not done in a long time. As soon as i got home i stuck my fingers down my throat to get rid of most of the alcohol but it doesn't take alcohol to self harm. I know my friends would be hurt if they knew that after I left them I went for a walk around dunfermline hoping to get attacked. I've been raped, sexually assaulted and physically attacked before (and all separate incidents) so please don't think I was naive when I went looking for it, I know the destruction I was looking for. I wanted someone else to hurt me instead of myself for a change. I was looking for someone to end me or give me a reason to end myself. But nothing happened.
What sort of fucked up person does that?
One that's now home. 3:08am trying to stop my brain trying to kill me.
It's just a bad day though right?
Yeah.
