I've been triggered and stressed out by so many things and just overly sensitive about the topic of suicide (which of course has just happened to be a major theme of the week).
I've been cutting for the last 3 days... pretty sure at least two of the girls I dance with saw my stomach... fuck.
I've come to the conclusion that I can either spend my energy on fighting the urges and really trying not to cut or I can just accept it's a part of who I am and use my energy pretending I'm okay so people stop worrying about me.
I just can't do both... it's too much.
And I really just feel... well... defeated. Never in my life have I felt 'defeated'. All of the shit I've been through, all the treatment and doctors and therapists... all the fighting I've done and rejection that's been through my way... all the loneliness and depression and loss of control... all the failure.
It took 22 years... but now I'm here... defeated.