I sit in my room. I can't figure out what to do. I'm fighting to try and keep my eyes open because recently all I can do is sleep. Which isn't good. It means nothing is better to do than leaving reality for a few hours.
I've been so happy for so long, and it's great to count another month of being clean and being away from those thoughts. But recently I've found myself thinking about it again. Thinking of all the times I almost killed myself. Thinking of the times I wanted to. Thinking of the times I cried and cried and cried because I hated myself and because I was a disgrace and a burden to everyone around me.
And I can feel myself falling again. I can feel the room getting darker as the night creeps closer, and my smile just starts to hang low again. I'm slouching again. I'm beginning to become afraid again. Afraid of making choices. Afraid of saying the wrong thing.
I feel like I'm failing my girlfriend. I haven't talked to her in eleven hours, God, what a horrible girlfriend I am. I keep second guessing myself. I'm getting more and more selfish with every thought.
I'm starting to have those thoughts again. Those thoughts that nobody wants to know about. The thoughts that I'm too scared to tell anyone about because I've been so okay for so long. I thought I had grown out of this, but I guess my disorder really will begin to drag me down again. I look back and joke about how I wanted to die, but I've stopped because I'm starting to revert back. But my life is perfect. I have this beautiful, understanding girlfriend that I'm too afraid to tell any of this too, I have the best friends in the world that would never understand how I feel like this again, parents who are happy that I'm happy even though I'm not happy, and a bright ass future ahead of me. Everything has been working out perfectly for me recently, and I've been so proud of myself for digging my way out of my suicidal thoughts and depressive ways.
Why am I all of a sudden not happy?
I walk outside of my room and sit at my mom's feet. I my head down on her thigh, and for a while we just sit there, her lovingly scratching the bottom of my hair on the back of my neck. She asks if I'm alright. I say yes. She asks what's wrong. I say nothing.
Because the only thing that's wrong is me.
