Losing it.

And I have lost control. I know I have. I feel like I’m grasping at straws. Right now I am moving into a different stage of my survival mode and I’m currently reasoning in my head harm reduction. Yea, I can be hella destructive when I want to be. At this moment, I’m basically bargaining in my head over what I can and cannot do.  It’s not a fun argument.

I’m playing games in my own head. I need to keep myself safe but I don’t know if I can be 100% on that. I have caught myself regressing badly in the last couple days. I seem to have lost most of my appetite and when I do eat, it makes me sick. I can’t tell if it is a stress response or my body trying to tick back into what I used to do when I was 14. Surviving on energy drinks and caffeine in general isn’t going to cut it.  

I want to be destructive. I want to be so destructive to myself and others around me. I know for a fact that I cannot be outwardly destructive like I want to be, so I’m pulling it all in. Which, I am trying to keep from causing an implosion.

..two weeks. Two weeks until I see the old white dude. I know I could call, I do know that. But I also can’t. It’s an interesting fight in my head. I might logically know that I need the help, but I am ashamed at the same time that I need it. I feel guilty if I do reach out. Not just ashamed, I feel down and out guilty because I don’t believe that I deserve it. I feel more like I am being a waste of time and I’m taking away from his personal time. There are people who are worse off than I, so why am I even thinking about reaching out for him.

I am able to somewhat tell the difference between adult me and teenage me’s emotions. It does become really cloudy at times, like now. I can feel the two grinding against one another and it’s hurting. I’m hurting.
…Fuck.

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