I didn't know where else to put this

I needed to get this out, but my pen is downstairs and I don't want to get out of bed to go get it. No one even looks here anymore, so no one will see it.

Today's been a rough day. It's really annoying when logically you know exactly what's going on, that it has to do with the fact that I'm a girl and during part of my cycle it just so happens that hormones go crazy and I very much want to kill myself. I hate knowing that and yet not being able to stop it from happening. The thoughts and feelings, I mean. Obviously i'm not going to kill myself. I say obviously because, well.. You'll see.

It got so bad today that I even completely envisioned it. Tomorrow is Wednesday. On Wednesday Tess goes out drinking. She'd likely be in one of two spots. I saw myself going to meet her there, have a drink or two, laughing and having a good time, all while knowing full well what I was about to do. I'd go home after, take the trash out, clean the cat litter, feed the cats, then go up to my room and... I sat there picturing myself bleeding out on the bathroom floor for what seemed like an eternity, but since it was all in the span on a commercial it couldn't have been more than a few seconds.  Long enough.

But then I kept thinking about how that wouldn't happen. It wouldn't be enough, the trash and cat litter and all. My bathroom would have to be cleaned first. I've got laundry to do. I've got a verification sitting on my desk to get done. My desk is a mess. Sure the cats would be fed that night, but who would feed them the next morning? Or night. Or any other time after that. They wouldn't understand what happened. Who would take care of them? No one I know would be able to take them in, so if anyone took them they'd likely be taken by strangers. Rufus might adapt, but Tiny couldn't, I don't think. Plus then I checked Facebook and saw Tess would be out of town tomorrow anyway, so I wouldn't have found her even if I did go out.

It's harder and harder to resist though. Everywhere I look everyone's screaming at me that my life is wrong. Everything I'm doing is wrong. I start getting panic attacks, have trouble breathing, when I simply think about living differently, trying to do any of the things everyone else says I should be doing. I had a friend tell me that how I live my life is how society brainwashed me into thinking I should live it, but if anything she's got it backwards. Every single person in my social circle lives it the way she does, thinks life works the way she does, that I'm the one who's wrong. Maybe I am? But I don't know any other way to live. The way they do? I wish I could, sometimes. I wish I could be so carefree, do what I want, go where I want when I want, say fuck it...

But I can't.  I'm an adult, I have to be responsible. I can't be a burden on anyone else. That's why I can't kill myself either. My heart hurts so much I want nothing more than to rip it out, plunge a knife into it. I'm so disguested by my weight I've dreamed about it, thought about slicing my stomach open. Tearing the skin off my arms with my fingernails. Doing the same to my face. Slitting my own throat. But I'll never do it because someone else would have to clean it up and I can't do that to them. Someone would have to go through my stuff. My place is far cleaner than it was but I'd still pity anyone having to go through it. Someone would have to sell my place, but it's nowhere near ready to do that, so it'd have to be fixed up first. Time and money.. Plus I do have debts. They'd have to be paid by someone.

When my life is perfectly neat and organized, settled, with both cats predeceasing me, then I could do it. Except someone would still have to clean it up. Unless I didn't do it at home. Out in the woods or something? The animals could clean it up for me. Well, except the car and clothes and such. The vast majority of people wouldn't care. They'd get over it. People are resilient like that. Work would hire someone else and would very quickly see I'm a shit employee. Tess has other friends. Krissy would probably be mad at me. She's got it far worse than I do and she's fighting. And I just give up? My family would be upset, but they'd move on too. They've all got their own lives away from me so it'd hurt a little less every day. My RP friends would find other people to rp with, if they ever even found out what happened at all. Sharon would probably wonder why I stopped talking, why eventually her letters would get returned. But then she'd be like Krissy, fighting her own fights.

So I could do it, if it wasn't for my cats and whatever it is in my head that forces me to be responsible. Instead I sit here for three-ish days a month desperately trying to shut out the voice in my head, to still the urges, to hold still, to not scream out loud, to not do the things that every fiber of my being is yelling at me to do. If I just suck it up, hold out for those few days, I'll wake up and be back to myself for another 5 or 6 weeks, but always looking over my shoulder and waiting for the demons to come back. They always do.


My tweets

  • Thu, 15:46: It really makes my day when a school decides to do things themselves to cover one of our people instead of making me do it~
  • Thu, 19:21: My bed attacked me. :| bleeding gash in my leg, albeit a fairly shallow, smallish one :| Stupid bed.

My tweets

  • Wed, 21:58: It's a Nell kind of night; no one relaxes me like they do. It's insane how happy music makes me.. http://t.co/YfZUcR1 It's Okay MV
  • Thu, 08:38: headache from hell this morning... Being at work by myself isn't the blessing it usually is. Alone = all phone calls from the crazies...sigh
  • Thu, 09:50: Sometimes it's hard having a military background. You're raised a certain way, ya know? That never goes away. Civilians don't understand.
  • Thu, 09:58: Then again, ex-military do eventually have to adapt to civilian life. You can't run a kitchen full of civilians exactly like a military one