I am in that place again: barely hanging on to my life and giving a damn how it turns out. I am so tired, emotionally and physically. I slept the afternoon away and yet I want to crawl back under the covers. It is just now 9 pm here. I mean I've gone to bed at this time before but not after sleeping nearly four hours. I feel so alone: just me and my invisible pain. I may end up "giving in" to my…addiction. After all, what's one more scar on my arm or leg? It's not like I'll ever trust anyone to be that honest. I mean after being that honest last time landed me in a hospital for mainly people addicted to drugs. The psych program was a joke. I really only see two options: I find a spark to keep me going or I begin to plan…well you know. The hospitals around me are a joke and not made for the depressed.
I have no friend to talk to or a shoulder to cry on…God what I would give to have that shoulder or be in that tight, caring embrace. But it remains absent in my life. If I let my guard down, like I did last week, someone may put me somewhere I don't want to go.
Oddly enough, my mom asked me if I was feeling down…well given the past and her understanding, a lie seems to be the only good way out. It's not like if I were truthful with her, it would change much. I've lost count of how many dark days I have had over the past week.
The only solace or escape I have is in sleep and that only comes so often. I'm beginning to feel like a soda bottle that has been shaken too much ie an explosion is about to occur

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