Awkward meal

So work today was super not fun. I had to get up early to go get my stitches out before work, so I was tired and not in a good mood. I made the mistake of taking my lunch at the same time as my supervisor.

This was after I already knew that I wasn't going to get to go get treatment this weekend because the manager went home. So unfortunately the supervisor sat by me, and it was awkward. After a few awkward words, he brought it up. He said they had gotten the final warning plan approved basically. They were supposed to meet with HR yesterday but that the HR guy couldn't make it, so my supervisor was doing the paperwork today and we would meet Monday. He apologized for how long it was taking, and when I said something he said I he knew I wanted to get help. I said that I knew it wasn't his fault and was doing my best to keep it together. I didn't say more. I stared at the table as he tried awkwardly to make small talk.

After that, I kinda lost it. I had to get up at some point because I was laughing so hard there were tears in my eyes, but when I sat down to work again it was obvious it wasn't happy tears. I kept near sobbing when I tried to talk. I think it was pretty obvious that I wasn't really OK. I had to go sit in another room twice before I could work again. I was just exhausted and having some suicidal thoughts. I managed to finish the shift. I should probably have stayed later to help but I was so far gone by then. I just wanted to leave. It was going to be that or say something I would regret. I wanted to say so much to my supervisor because I wish someone understood that me doing my best is really just me trying not to actually kill myself and go to work everyday. It's trying to remind myself that there are people who would be upset if I died. I don't give a shit about hurting myself, I am not taking the majority of my meds, and I sleep the rest of the time so I can function. I am so not ok, and I am aware that it may reach the point where I stop caring about other people and just care that I don't want to be alive. The first time I was inpatient this year is because I reached that point. The second time I started pretty actively thinking about killing myself inpatient and experimented to see if I could smother myself with my pillow between checks. So I know it will get there again if I don't go soon, but nobody seems to care enough to intervene. I will probably say something Monday. Hopefully when I am less tired, I can put this into words and actually say them. Tonight I would only have worried him and accomplished nothing else. So I left as soon as possible and am home drinking.