processing

I ate and now I feel sick.

Nauseous.

It gave me the energy for anxiety. 

My stomach makes terrible sounds as it registers what I've done, a sleeping beast now awakened.  How am I supposed to want to keep it sated when it goes like this?

I don't feel good. 

Seeing text messages makes me worry. Makes my stomach churn.

I want to be able to keep the food inside me for longer than it wants to be when I get nervous like this. 

I was so worried it would help me feel better but now I'm realizing eating just helps me feel. It helps me get more distracted and have a little more stardust yes, but it also makes me want to eject all of my food into the toilet bowl and lie on the floor and stop existing.

I had just enough to dedicate towards downloading some old ROMs. Trying to do something fresh, something inner child with no connects to anybody. And now that we've messaged, it's just like it was before. 

There's not that vacancy.

There's not the absence.

Which is better? 

Which is worse?

He leaves tomorrow and I don't know how I'll handle this week. I don't want to handle this week. 

I don't want to think about it so I won't.

The Aurora is on tonight. 

I still wish I was dead but a little bit less.

That's the damn effect f to be having on me.

Nothing makes sense in the way I want it to.

Hayleigh was right. This does help, I think. It gets the chaos out. It directs the pain and helps it subside a little. It makes the beast. 

I'm cold still. I have goosebumps.

I should really go see the Aurora but I'm so cold. 

I wish he would miss me more.

I wish he would long for me.

I wish he would see me again.

He seems like he's doing so much better.

No more sad texts. No more missing me.

No more crying.

I'm the one left picking up all the pieces (again)

I told him I'd be open to a blessing but he suggests my grandfather or bishop.

I don't want to talk to family and I certainly don't want to talk to my bishop.

I don't want to talk to anyone else. 

The only people I'm talking to are Jeff and the suicide hotline.

It seems like I can't text the warmline which is unfortunately. 

My voice is soft due to not talking. I like it. It feels validating. I sound how I feel.

Even after eating, I feel raw and sensitive and soft. Vulnerable and wounded.

It's validating.

Part of me wants to kill myself before he gets back.

That'll show him I think. Then he'll feel it for sure

But I don't want to do more damage. 

So instead I'll think about it.

I'll plan it.

I'll keep talking to the crisis hotline.

I'll continue avoiding my family.

I'm going to curl into a ball like a prey animal and suffer this. 

I'll write out the methods and the dates and times and where to get the materials.

It's calming. It's a sign that things could stop. They could get better. 

I'll eat less than I was in an attempt to taunt that. In self harm. But I probably won't kill myself that way. It's scary to watch it happen over time.

It's scary to start to die.

I can't decide whether to stay up as late as I can or let life happen. I hate that I'm thinking about him leaving at 3:30am. I wish he didn't tell me that. I wish I didn't have to think about it. 

I wish I didn't know.

I wish the crisis hotline didn't ghost me.

I wish I felt different than this. But also not? 

I could barely manage much of my dinner. It's interesting how much appetite goes away.

Man. I really wish I was dead. 

I wish I could stop thinking about all this stuff. 

I wish I could just... Let go.

I wish I wanted to talk to somebody else but I don't.

Part of me is tempted to play an otome game but I also don't want to be driven further to wanting to kill myself in that way. That's straight up torture.

I don't know what I'll do.

Help me shut out the demons just enough but also not too much.

Please let him miss me.

Please let him hurt in the way that he can understand. 

Please, God. Please.