I’ve been asleep pretty much all day… And now all I can think is “what if”.

What if I don’t wake up. What if I swallow every pill in this house? What if I just cut, just a few times, for old time’s sake? What if I’m bipolar? What if my depression gets worse? What if there is no hope for me? What if I died?

What if everyone turned against me? WHat if I’m stupid? what if I just do it. I want to, so why shouldn’t I? What if I act out my dreams? What if I just let go and let the darkness take me. What if there is no saving me. What if what if what if what if what if?

Everyone would hate me. What if that didn’t matter? What if I just stopped caring? What if I killed myself, who the fuck would care? What if I just hide in my bedroom forever? What if he never finds me? What if I just do it? He wouldn’t know until it was too late.

What if I need saving and there is no one to save me. God, what if I have to save myselg. What if this is all in my head? Oh, wait, it is. So what if I set it free. What would it do? What if there were no consequences? WHat if I just let go? WHat if what if what if what if.

Fuck. I can feel anger and frustration. And sadness. and emptiness. I think that I would rather be empty than to live like this right now. Who should I tell? I can’t tell mom, she’s stressed enough because I asked a simple question. What if I told her and it killed her? If I tell him, he will pin me down, or make me get out of bed. I don’t want to leave here. I’m safe here…mostly. My thoughts just cloud my mind. What if this is the end?  But it can’t be the end…because I haven’t lived and I want to live.

But what is the point? When all is said and down, I’m still not ok. I’m not ok. im not ok im not ok. im not ok. I can already feel people shaking me and I havent even posted this yet. it’s still all coming from my head. i’m not ok im not ok im not ok. I want i want i need something. I need relief.

I want to cut. I want to just never be found. Crawl back under the covers and never come out. I don’t want to see anyone. I want to hide. Don’t come find me. Leave me alone. it’ll be ok, he’ll be ok. you’ll be ok….

Everyone is mad at me. for hiding. for thinking. for locking myself away on a beautiful day outside. it’ll be ok. What if it’s just a little one? who would notice that?

I feel like my brain is heavy. that my arms are heavy. that my legs and feet are heavy. I don’t want to leave. I want to cut. Just leave me alone. leave me alone!

What the fuck does it matter anyhow. FUCK. Just fuck. go away.


About Preslee

I am diagnosed with Bipolar 2 Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Panic and Anxiety disorders, and PTSD. I write about my own personal experiences and thoughts.

Posted on March 23, 2013, in Mental Health and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

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