rushlight

Mommy, I did a bad thing...

Got off work at 5ish this morning.

"Fuck yes! It's my weekend bitch!"

Got in the door and to my room. Then the anxiety attack kicked up.

I'd spent the night worrying about someone I parted ways with a few months ago (on less than wonderful terms).

Despite the fact that I don't talk to this person anymore, I still worry about her (pretty much constantly). I'd like to say I've moved on, but those of you who know me know that I can't.

So I spent close to 30 minutes curled up between my bed and the wall, trying to remember how to breathe.

Now, I'd promised myself I'd stop the whole cutting thing a while back. And for a while I'd kept it limited to foreplay. But I caved...

Fucking addictions.

Anyway, I grabbed a spare razor from my boxknife (gotta love Walmart for that) and dragged myself into the shower. I'm sure you can guess how the rest went.

Anyway, it worked. The attack went away, and I don't feel like I'm going to die (though I do need food and sleep).