I’m constantly thinking about using painkillers. Less so about self harming, although that to. Often about throwing up, but that doesn’t feel like a need. Using and SH do. I know it’s not, but doesn’t change how it registers. I’m tired of thinking about it so much. I’m tired of constantly distracting. I’m tired of ignoring. I’m tired of acknowledging and moving on. Actually, I don’t acknowledge how much I want it enough.
This began as an incoherent blog post, I think though, that it can be a reason too incomprehensible or not. Continue reading “Seventy Eight: Instead of fighting”
Just breathe. I love you Eliza. Just breathe. Relax. You are okay. Listen to the cars in the distance, hear the motors hum. Listen to the breeze, soft, gentle, barely discernible. Listen to the chatter of the birds that can be heard although they seem far away. Tune into the music playing from the stereo just inside. Continue reading “Letter to myself: 2nd February ’18”