Loving November Grace

36.3

It's that day of drowning here again, the cold wash only I can feel.

The sun was throwing itself through my windows, I could tell it was morning again and I wondered how I had missed the night.

My favourite time.

The most dangerous time.

I don't want to get up.

I don't want to move at all.

My tongue felt dry, my throat so fucking sore.

A familiar feeling. Thirst. 

Thursday- Saturday morning... You need to move November.

Drink.

And in that moment it takes all the strength I have to make a good choice, to reach for an oxygen tank and take a breath.

The good choice being to sit up.

I sit up and my body aches so bad from just lying still for all of yesterday, my eyes scruffy and as I swallow, the pain makes them tear.

Not because it hurts, just because I had fallen again.

I was prepared for this, I had been working to make sure this wasn't the end of the world.

So why did it feel like it?

I think that is what I forget when i have a clear head, when I am thinking back on how it feels to feel like this. When I tell myself just get up, do your routine, call Tristan, Sage, Sophie, Rosie, pull yourself together.

When you actually feel like this, those things are the last on your mind.

There is little on your mind other than everything bad you have done, every time you have made someone else feel like shit, every mistake, every piece of ugly, every reason why it would be better to just leave everyone alone.

For fuck sake.

I need to get a grip.

As I sit on the edge of my bed I let out a breath. I knew what to do when I was having a hard day.

I knew what I was supposed to do.

I stand.

Shower.

I need to shower.

I walk unsteadily over to my wardrobe and although I want to climb in, I pick out socks, underwear, a bra, a comfy dress, and I wonder over to the bathroom.

We have this.

Just wash.

I don't actively wash my hair, I don't scrub myself with soap I just stand under the water and hold on to the sides.

Needing to snap myself out of it. But lets be real, you don't snap yourself out of something like this. They say do mindfulness, take medication, call your counsellor, your family.

No.

You just can't.

None of those things will work.

I step out of the shower and then remember to turn the water off.

Rubbing my body with a towel I open my cabinets, so I don't see the mirror, I need to just focus on inside.

Brushing my teeth was the last thing i want to do but I am trying. So I do, my hair dripping down my back and I shiver, so harshly I wonder whether it was from the cold or my body repulsed by the fact I was using it's last bits of energy to put fucking clothes on.