Hanging on

Things are not going particularly well. I still am not taking my meds. I am so exhausted. Thursday I ended up cancelling my therapy appointment because I just couldn't get out of bed in time to go. I was honest about why when she replied to my text and asked if everything was OK. I could have made up an excuse, but I felt guilty already for cancelling at the last minute. I ended up staying in bed until 2 and then going to see my parents. I haven't been taking my thyroid medication, which probably explains the exhaustion.

I've had a couple more nights spent throwing up. I am living off fast food, yogurt, and applesauce mostly. I have managed not to miss any work and managed not to cry at work so far. My supervisor not being there has helped. I have seriously thought about telling someone what's going on because I don't know how long I can keep this up. I am probably just as suicidal as I was before I went inpatient last time. Now it's not so much thoughts or plans. It's the desperate feeling. The feeling that things are hopeless and will never change. The feeling that I need to do something to make it go away. I spend the majority of the time in bed these days because I can distract myself enough not to actually do anything. Plus, it takes a major effort to get up, so I am more likely to just stay in bed. Wednesday, I think I was out of bed for 3 hours. I ate lunch and went to the liquor store and then got back in bed and took a nap. It's pretty pathetic. I mostly only got up to drink because I still keep the vodka in another room.

I haven't told anyone because I don't know what to say. I just keep thinking it will be a miracle if I survive the holidays. I don't want to go back to the hospital. I have actually considered asking my parents to stay with them for a few days until I feel safer, but I don't know if it's worth it. If I tell them what's going on, I can't expect them to then go back to believing I'm fine when I decide I want to go back home again.

I have thought about asking for a few days off work to rest, but I really don't need to spend more time at home. I am kinda just waiting until someone says something or when I inevitably start crying in front of someone. I think I am still hiding it somewhat successfully while I am there. I don't want to worry anyone when they can't really help me.

It's a mess. I'm a mess. I don't really care anymore.