Close to the edge

Under the weight of the stress and rage I've dealt with the last three days, it's a miracle that I'm still standing. The self harm I've inflicted upon myself has brought me close to the edge of suicide, within arms reach of death, but I've not taken the final leap. There is a tidbit of sanity remaining that keeps me consciously aware that death is not an option.

The lack of eye contact I maintain with my therapist kept her from realizing just how doped up on Valium I was during our session today. I don't even remember how many I took. I just remember being so full of rage after I dropped my daughter off at school. I tried to just go back to sleep for awhile, hoping I could put distance between me and the rage, but it just continued to fester. I couldn't escape and eventually ended up grabbing a small handful of pills hoping they'd numb me to the point where I no longer had the ability to feel anything.

After school I started in on the alcohol, knowing I wouldn't be back behind the wheel of my car for the night. The Valium stash is far too valuable to me to keep digging into it every time I need to escape the pain. When I drank all I could without vomiting, I moved onto cutting. It's been many months since I resorted to that, so the fact that it became a viable option again is another failure stamp on my life card. At least I kept the damage to a minimum.

The beast inside is rearing its ugly head again. I hope that I can remain strong enough not to try to exterminate it once and for all. Killing it means killing me. I know we are one and the same.