The only reason I'm writing this is because once upon a time, writing these stupid blog posts was all that kept me sane. I have slowly been going insane this year, and I have had two significant breakdowns that I remember - this is the second. I don't remember the last time I cut myself. I threw away the knife I used to use, and I never even thought about it any more. What a blessing. But today, whatever streak I'd been on ended. I cut my arms because the pain inside of me, in my stomach, chest and throat, felt far worse than the feeling of cutting my arm open, even as I was doing it. Even if I had someone to ask for help, I would be afraid to. I did call Hopeline but they closed at 10pm. I've never felt more alone or more empty, ever. It's clear my life needs to change, but I'm not sure what I should be changing. Even before the lockdown, I was isolated and unfulfilled - now it's compounded a hundred times. I have no idea what I should do and my mind is so numb I can barely write this.
Star .
