This is the life I don’t want, all right.

It’s finally bedtime and I’ll return to the hospital tomorrow afternoon. I got some things done like a Grown Ass Adult without crying – emailed my boss, went to the bank, cooked myself some food (ohno my tummy did.not.want). There’s certainly no shortage of things I could be doing around the house – I was hospitalized in the middle of shredding papers in my office –  but I can’t get motivated. No one’s going to see it, so why bother?

Things that are sort-of pleasant, like practicing the piano or crafts, are only good for an hour or two, and with five or six hours to grind through every weeknight before bed, it just wears on me. So much time. It feels like colouring (the whole adult colouring book craze) is hardly more enjoyable than doing dishes; I move my arm, something happens at the other end, a section of plate is wiped or some colour is laid on the page, what is the difference?

I had a drink of my Suicide Liquor tonight – I had bought orange juice, 7-up, Malibu, and two bottles of wine – and just now had a tiny bite of hash truffle that a friend gave me. It is very chocolatey so restraint was hard to exercise. Funny how the hospital pretty much ensures you’ll go back by giving you two pills to take with you and holding the rest of your meds there. I always have some Advil stashed around, and a bag full of little containers of each of my meds at work, but left my lanyard/badge at the nursing station, so liquor, hash, and Advil will have to do.

The cut I’d made on my left arm is now bright pink while the ones on my right arm are still scarred up. I know cutting is supposed to be a Bad Coping Mechanism. Bad! You should take a bubble bath instead, read some funny comics,  do deep breathing, etc. etc. What I have found out just now, with the help of a razor blade from my bedside drawer, is that 1. Cutting is ridiculously easy with an actual sharp object! Like, one swipe does the work of ten! and 2. I don’t really feel it at all. I am actually worried that I could cut deeply enough to need stitches without any effort and since I don’t want to bleed all over the bed I will try to just go to sleep.

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