Embrace.

I woke up today at one forty one, and until four I was in that semi-sleep cycle.

Meaning, I slept pretty good, I'm tired, but it was pretty good. 

Today I have ram. 

I'm anxious, but not enough to skip it. 

I love that place too much. 

My morning opened with 2012, Hurt and then Kings of Medicine. 

And since it's five thirty and 2012 is over, I have two options. 

Stay in bed and watch again all the movies I've already seen multiple times. 

Or, to go into the living room and use my laptop. 

The latter is more appealing. 

So I guess that it means I need to leave that warmth. 

I guess I better dress up before leaving. 

Denims or pantihose?

I think denims. 

Yeah, the jeans are pretty nice. 

Size 00, pretty lovely, especially since that a year ago I couldn't even put it on my body!

Wow, I remember that time where I was just roof at to wear my trousers and shorts, and I had a few that I simply couldn't fit into. 

I almost cried from the humiliation. 

I even threw away my two 36 or 38 [Europe sizes] skinny jeans, one in black and I carved some shaped onto it with my razors at the time, and the blue one was in a pretty good condition, I just despise the colour. 

Now I can fit into 34.

 It makes me happy. 

Thinness. 

Which reminds me, I've talked to Lee about my eating behaviour briefly. 

I guess I just had to get it out. 

At least it's not Bulimia, huh?

You know, my mental health seems to me much more pleasant than the my normal peers. 

They all feel stressed about normal things, exams, homework, parents, "love life", sexual development, sexuality, looks, being socially acceptable, have plenty of "friends", and what not. 

I don't suffer that hell. 

I just hate my personality quite a lot even though that I manage to cope, which in turn caused me to consider suicide, I'm anxious when it comes to people, and it's even worse because I'm scared that someone, somehow, somewhen, will put me back into Shalvata, but other than that crap, I'm doing pretty good. 

I absolutely love this mindset. 

I guess that it's what makes me who I am. 

That sick girl that downs blue pills down her throat [five left from the allergy, zero from the dydrogesterone, and about six or so from the fluoxetine, but soon I'll have another box] and enjoys threads and forums about different topics, ones that will let her think about something and have a bit of a clue. 

It's ten minutes to four, and I feel the suicidal thoughts that crept up on me, affecting me. 

And I don't bother fighting, or ignoring, I just resign myself to the promising and relieving thoughts.
I'm too tempted to tie a noose around my neck from the shoelaces.
Maybe I'd wear scarves and bandannas if I'd fail or regret, and hope that it would be unnoticed.
But I just can't do this any longer.
I'm not a person for quite a while.
The anxiety delivered by the fear or returning to the hell-hole, ruins me.
The lack of sleep, well, maybe it doesn't help, but it just reminds me of those really good times, where I didn't need much sleep and I was an energy-bomb, which is the main thing that bothers me.
I'm tired.
I'm weak.
I'm nothing.
I'm a disappointment.
A disposable child.

I guess it's time.
May the noose will be tight enough.


I don't even have that self criticism as another mindset, it merged, and it's rather powerful.
My very last powers are crumbling away, and there is no light in the end of this tunnel.

I guess that I can't go on.
Maybe Hanukkah would allow me some clarity to think, but I won't be surprised if in the end I'll set dates, or show you my letter or note, and write some sort of a will.

I'm dying.
And in order to allow you to see how dead I feel, I'm going to the fucking 60 or 80 or whatever it is run, and collapse.

I didn't collapse.

I improved from last year's result.
9.73 seconds.
I know, I know, nice.
I also improved Yael, she got below ten.
When I came, she was pretty happy about it.
Maybe she's still happy because of yesterday's party, or maybe she's faking it.
I don't know, she really wanted to make me feel lovely.
I didn't mind hugging her, I actually don't mind hugging people who are close to me.
Who knows, it might be our very last embrace.