I spent the last two hours hiding in the closet. I figured it was better to be in there than to be where I might do something to hurt myself.
I was terrified. I don’t know of what though. It’s worse when I can’t put a finger on it.
Scared of myself? Scared of life?
All I know is that I was shaking. I was crying.
Even now, all I can think about is cutting. And if I’m not thinking about that, then it’s dying.
Damn it. I’m not making any sense.