I am still alive it the physical sense, but I am dead inside. Researching suicide methods again.
I feel so alone, isolated from the world. Only having access to the internet for a couple hours a day three days a week is really getting to me. I was more connected to the world when I was living on the streets. I am so lonely, my depression is getting deeper every day.
I managed to make it 8 days without cutting. Then I relapsed and relapsed hard. I cut myself 60 times, 30 on each arm. I hate being stranded here without access to a therapist or psychiatrist. I just completed my health care application and my coverage will begin on November 1st. Fortunately I have enough medications to cover me until then. I have no idea what kind of hoops I am going to need to jump through. The psychotropic meds shouldn’t be a problem, but I have a feeling that it is going to be difficult to get my hormones, which would be disastrous. People aren’t as open minded here as they are in California.
I have gone six days without picking up the blade. This is the longest I have been able to go in a couple of months. As the scabs from my most recent cuts fade away I am able to see just how much damage I have done to myself in the last couple of months. I stopped counting at 100 scars, but there are far more than that.
I am curious to see how permanent the scars will be. I have some that are more than 30 years old that are quite visible.
I don’t want to be here anymore.