Yesterday wasn't that great of a day. I spent the day with Tami who I had met from online, but didn't really spend a whole lot of time with her because my anxiety was terrible and I just couldn't relax. She was busy hugging me, biting me, etc., and I sort of didn't care. I guess. It felt good, somewhat, but I came home and just took a shower and layed in bed feeling very sick. I wonder if people make me sick. I think it's just the anxiety and new medication, probably, and not her. It's 8:30am and I've been pretty much awake off and on all night, but I layed in bed after I came off the computer.
I keep almost breaking into tears, but I make myself stop. I don't want to cry or do any of this, but I can't make myself stop it seems. Yesterday I came very close to hurting myself again. I think today I won't be able to stop. I already feel myself breaking down. I'm drinking some $22 wine hoping it'll calm me down, but most likely it'll just give me enough courage to overcome my own willpower and cut again. My camera doesn't have batteries which has been pretty good incentive to stop me from cutting, as I like to keep a visual record of what I'm doing to myself, for posterity, and if I don't make it through this depression at least there will be some record somewhat other than what my parents say, or the psychiatrist or psychologist (but they can't disclose information to anyone except unless court ordered) and this very brief journal that I haven't written in nearly enough.
I need to write more. Cry more. Hurt more.