it's my birthday

It's my 39th. And so far all I've done is punish myself for existing in the first place, as though it's my fault. I haven't answered the phone all day. My daughter missed her bus. My son is missing his class tonight. I've foregone all responsibilities today.

Last night at midnight, in a symbolic fuck you to myself, I took a small handful of laxies. I never take them. As a teenager I abused them so badly that when I do take them it is an excruciating experience. It feels like my stomach is going to burn a hole through my skin.

I'm fucking sick...in the head and otherwise. For the first time today, I'm sitting up in bed and I'm going to take a few benzos to make sure I don't stay up too long.

 

I'm not suicidal, I just wish I were dead.