"I'm more, more worried for you than for me." -"Cry Baby Cry", Throwing Muses.

Me: No, no, no. I don't want this. Please don't do this to me, brain!
Brain: Haha FUUUUUUUUU I do what I want

That's essentially what my brain and I have been saying to each other these past few days. Of course, I also get horrible insults and such thrown at me, but I don't really want to type those. I would probably end up crying and I don't want to do that, either.
Hell, I did it last night.
I feel horrible because last night I stared my mom in the face and lied. She asked me 2 questions: "How is everything going?" and "Have you been hurting yourself?"
In both instances, I said no, but that is a complete lie (not taking into account that small hypomanic episode a couple weeks back.)
I cried in bed and ended up texting a friend, making her the first friend to be aware of the self injury three months into a relapse. It's only been a few times, thank god, but still every bit as shameful as I remember.
On top of that I think I'm getting sick. I'm lightheaded and slightly nauseous. I have the Trent cough (named after Trent from Daria) in which I laugh a few times then start coughing.
Oh, and I've been sniffling.
Sigh. It's going to be a long episode.