Most definitively not okay. I ended up calming down enough to call my team's emergency number but then hung up on him because the dude that answered was a complete nitwit. "What have you tried?" "Writing, cold water (drinking and dunking head), a million sit ups, a snack, listening to music, writing, talking to 988, the stickers my therapist gave me." "Can you try those again?" "THEY HAVEN'T FKING HELPED ANY OTHER ******* NIGHT OR AN HOUR AGO WHY WOULD THEY HELP INSTEAD OF MAKE THINGS WORSE AGAIN?" On and on like that for like 20 minutes. Like, dude, I'm fking seeing lightning come out of the ground and hearing a nurse from a hospital stay in 2023 talk about how fked up I am and my body and am literally chewing myself until I bleed, I think we're beyond writing a story helping.

So then I ran out of the apartment building into my homeless haunting grounds in the darkness screaming which was just the icing on the cake.