Someone slapped me in the *handbucket* last night and sent me to hell...

I got scared last night and went into flight mode. It started with a conversation and my fear of someone invading my personal space – and suddenly what little was left of my mental health quickly went to hell in a *handbucket*. (I hate my ‘significant other’ right now! I can’t deal with any of it!) By nightfall I am so exhausted and emotionally volatile that it doesn’t take much to send me right over the ledge and into any number of rooms in the pit of hell; each one perhaps a bit different, but equally detrimental to Grace.

The self destructive voice was strident and relentless last night. She and her friends stood in front of me each with a briefcase, the contents of which remained classified until I agreed to play the game: Deal or no Deal! The hostess with the mostest, this coy woman…she told me that I could either continue to writhe in pain, or I could sign the consent form and the game would begin…the ending of which would surely provide relief, at least temporarily. But it’s something.

And I am so ashamed that I have started to hear that voice again: What would happen if you took the whole bottle of seroquel– maybe chase it down with the vodka in the freezer? At least you would be able to get some sleep. It would calm you down if you did cut yourself. I don’t want to die – it’s not about that. It is about making it stop. It’s about stopping the crazy thoughts and voices in my head. It’s about killing the emotional and physical pain, not me. And I realize that sounds disordered and twisted. But last night, these were my thoughts. I did not act on those thoughts – nor do I intend too. But I am not always present with it happens...and it could happen. I need to figure out a way to keep this at bay at night - I don’t know what the answer is...but I do know what it is not.

I am not a fan of this! I am in a bad effing place right now. It feels like acid is burning through my flesh. It’s hard to hold on. The bad thoughts are back and I am inches away from grabbing a sharp instrument. I don’t want to hurt me. I want help and I want it to stop. But I don’t know where to find that right now.

The impending doom of the trip back east that is scheduled in 6 days ~ and other issues that seem to be out of my control right now have left me tangled in the seaweed while the tide crashes over me bringing harmful debris with it.

I need something – but I don’t know what.

I am trying...don't let go by GracefullyGrowing on Polyvore.com