exit, pursued by a black dog

This is what it’s like to be crazy (my day today).

Wake up at 01.30, 02.00, 04.00, 05.30. 06.30. 09.30. At these times, to distract from the tears that well up immediately, I play Candy Crush (surely a sign of madness in itself..?), listen to an audiobook, check Facebook, read the news, put on the radio, play geography quizzes on sporcle. I have no desire to get up.

Finally drag myself out of bed at 10.30. Give myself a pep talk and manage to shower, dress and appear presentable.

Hide in my room.

Hide in my room.

Venture downstairs and, quickly as possible, prepare breakfast. Try to appear like a normal human being in front of my flatmates.

Hide in my room. Cry.

Cry some more. Try to think of someone to contact. There is no one.

Wonder if cutting would help. Haven’t done this in a long time and the scars are just healing. Punch myself and the wall instead.

Hide and cry.

Watch Netflix.

Housemate starts vacuuming. The noise sends me spiralling for no apparent reason other than being a nutjob.

Panic attack.

Panic attack. Cry. Dribble snot on my jumper when blowing my nose. A new low.

Cry.

Realise I’m hungry. Haven’t eaten since breakfast.

Wash face and put on mascara in the hope that my housemate won’t notice the swollen eyes.

Cook, eat, try to appear like a normal person.

Escape.

Remember I have snot stains on my jumper. Wonder if my housemate noticed.

Hide in my room.

Cry.

 

 

 

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