Today the world is disintegrating.
I feel so alone.
I feel like an alien.
I feel like nothing or no-one will ever be able to give me enough.
I feel so sad.
It feels like I’m dying.
Like I think I might actually die.
Just from how sad I feel.
No-one can make me feel better.
But for once I feel compassion for myself.
I want comfort.
For the first time in ages I am not trying to make the sad go away by doing something stupid or dangerous.
I’m going to bed.
In my softest onesie with all my favourite blankets.
Scented wax burner.
A hot water bottle.
A cinnamon flavour drink.
And I am going to look after me physically because I need to.
I’m going to take some pills to make me sleep.
(Only the ones – and dose – I am prescribed).
And I am going to listen to an audiobook and pretend someone is reading to me.
And I will cry if I feel sad.
And stroke and cuddle all the soft and warm things.
And even though it will be me that’s looking after me, I think I might feel a bit better afterwards .
Hope says it will mean that tomorrow, I can wake up rested and do some of the nice things I wanted to do for ages but have been too destructive to manage
And tomorrow I am going to look back over my DBT skills.
Tomorrow I re-evaluate.
But I still feel like such a waste of a human that this is what has to consume my energy or else I just destroy myself and everything around me.
This must end. One way or another. It has to. And only I can make it happen.