Struggling severely. Basically just trying to survive at this point. During work I was so upset and the only thing I could think to do was write. So I grabbed some paper from the closet and just wrote. After a couple of hours I finally calmed down enough. I didn’t turn in my one to one log or do the work I’m supposed to do. I will apologize to my teacher. My supervisor won’t notice the missing log right away.
My brain is telling me to do terrible things but I keep beating in back. In a way, it’s actually protecting me by giving me visions of the one thing I cannot do because I do not have access. I’m getting that itchy feeling on my arms. That’s why I got the forearm tattoos though, of course. Can’t ruin expensive art.
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Of course it is happening inside your head. But why on earth should that mean that it is not real?
-Albus Dumbledore
That’s life. If nothing else, that is life. It’s real. Sometimes it
f—-ing hurts. But it’s sort of all we have.
-Garden State
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