i woke up today in a rut. fine, whatever, that happens. i made the executive decision to sleep in and skip discussion, then go to law class. cut to an hour later. i'm laying in bed with my eyes stinging and bloodshot, blood trickling from my nose, thinking of which bridge would be least conspicuous for me to be found below should i jump today. i'm imagining the world without me in it again. how my friends and family would react, what the funeral would be like. how my burdensome-at-best life would cease its ingress upon others. i think i want to throw up.
this is proof that my psyche is shattering again. it's been a year since i've had any of these angsty, self-hating suicide fantasies. i can't bring myself to leave my room; i'm petrified of everyone out there. they judge me. they hate me. i can't deal with anything going wrong. that can't happen. so i sit here in my own stench of sweat and disgust. it's like i'm falling even faster now, as if this paranoid agoraphobia is choking my soul, my spirit and ambition. sitting under the grey cloud of listlessness, awaiting my judgment like some slothful waif.
