The past few weeks, I've been increasingly suicidal... I don't really know why... I have a new boyfriend who is like ativan... he's amazing... he listens to everything I tell him and remembers it, he treats me better than anyone ever has, shows genuine care for me... and he knows MUCH of my story, which I find odd because most guys bolt when they hear anything about my past...
Things at work are fine. Things at home are bearable, but tiring.
But the thoughts persist, and they're getting stronger. I just want a fat, lethal dose of heroin. I'm tired and I want it to be over. He doesn't know I feel like this, he just knows I'm tired and stressed... and he does whatever he can to facilitate comfortable sleep and rest and relaxation... he's really good at it. Going to his house is like going on vacation. And it's so clean there. But I am keeping the knives locked up so I won't start cutting again. I am scared to talk to anybody about what's really going on inside right now. So I just sit here in bed, alone, miserable. And so tired. It's getting sunny and my old scars are starting to show... I showed some to a consumer who couldn't believe I used to self harm. I showed him a failed suicide attempt, too. And told him about some of the heroin overdoses... my mom didn't even know so many of those were intentional. I'm a smart cookie... I can count.
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