10/3 - 10/5 pt2
You Take Care of You!
I’m thrilled you’re here, but given its nature and purpose, Borderline Babe contains mentions of mental illness, disordered eating, self-harm, suicidal ideation, strong language, and other adult themes. If you find the material upsetting, please don’t read further. You can always come back another time - I’ll still be here for you!
What is the Borderline Diary?
It’s a scrapbook of life as it happens, my life told through honest and open thoughts, emotions, words, and pictures. Too honest? Too open? I don’t think so. Much as we might talk about ending stigmas - whether around illness, appearance, disability, or anything that makes us insecure - I believe we still hide parts of ourselves in the shadows. I think if we shared more openly, we’d all see ourselves in others, and we’d all feel less alone.
Each diary post includes my real-time, “hot off the presses” diary entries, as well as my reflections on the key emotions and themes in those entries. This mirrors an important element in my recovery: the raw, unfiltered emotions - positive and negative - I experience, coupled with the thoughtful, healthy processing of those emotions. My initial emotions will often sound extreme, but that’s the BPD talking. The Borderline Diaries put those emotions out there, because we can’t understand what we can’t see. The Borderline Diaries are me talking - sorting through my emotions to get to my healthy feelings, my healthy relationships, and my healthy life.
Paint Me Like A Monet
Part II
Entry Dates
Friday, October 3, 2025 – Sunday, October 5, 2025
Themes of the Week
This week, I felt both intense anger and sadness, and I had to find a balance between the two. I struggled to process my emotions around losses - Past and present, but ultimately was able to come to terms with my grief around the different situations. For much of the week, anxiety had me in a chokehold. Anxiety is really just unprocessed emotions, so looking ahead at this upcoming week, I know I need to be better about doing my Daily Connections. Processing on-the-go and in real time is important (and I’m very good at it!), but the intentional and thought out processing I do in my Daily Connections is vital for my recovery. I also faced another situation this week that caused me great distress. Not only did I see an increase in my anxiety, but also in my OCD, intrusive thoughts, paranoia, and suicidal ideation. This might sound scary, and honestly it was, but I was able to find my way back to my baseline and recovery thinking. I did this by processing independently, but also seeking help from appropriate and trusted support people in my life. Another thing I noticed this week was increased self-hate and destructive thinking and behaviors, mostly related to food and exercise. I’m sure this is related to the high stress I felt this past week (falling back into negative coping mechanisms). It’s something for me to be aware of moving forward. I see my nutritionist this coming week, and I think it will be good to chat more with him. But for now, I will tell myself what he always tells me, “You’re doing a good job, Veronica.” Yes, yes I am!
Hostility vs healthy anger
Sadness and learning how to grieve in a healthy way
Validating and processing things for myself, but not being afraid to ask for help
Giving myself grace
Problem solving
Utilizing healthy coping mechanisms
Getting back on track after falling into old, destructive thought patterns and habits
Friday, October 3, 2025
7:38 am
Messages:
Me (to Mom):
“Can you pick up my med please??”
“I only have another day's worth and I can't miss a dose”
“I'm so sorry 😭”
8:18 am
Messages:
Mom (to me):
“Yes! For sure! This afternoon.”
8:37 am
I just called my provider to make sure I have a refill of my medication. I was feeling so fearful, because what if I don't have a refill and I can't get a hold of her? I can't believe I could be this stupid… I just wasn't thinking and I didn't realize I was nearing the end of the bottle…
But everything is okay. I was able to get in touch with my provider immediately, and she told me I have two refills ready at my pharmacy. I'm going to see my provider on Tuesday, but she touched base with me while we were on the phone - She asked if things are still the same as when I sent her my email update about the medication - When I told her I felt like the medication was really helping me. I told her that yes, things are still the same… And they really are… And honestly I don't know how to feel about that… But I don't have time to think about it right now.
Okay I'll talk to you later. Bye now.
Idk the time…
I don't know what time it was - I'm writing this later… It was earlier in the day… I just wanted to die. Truly. I felt so afraid, and frantic, and trapped, and helpless. And I was ready to call Dad and unload on him, and beg him for help, and beg him to save me from my own mind…. But I was able to delay… I connected with another support person who was with me at the time of distress… But still I just felt so overwhelmed… I still just wanted to run home to Dad crying and begging him to keep me safe… Because I saw a cell and padded walls… And I saw a noose that I had made of dirty bed sheets… And I saw blood… And I saw my slit wrists… A failed attempt… And I saw me hanging, hanging, hanging… Sued, and jailed, and hanging… Hanging because I could not stand the shame and the loss of love…
They're coming to get me. I feel them watching me.
6:51 pm
Time has passed since I last wrote to you… Time has passed since I saw my cell for the first time today. I see it still. It's a little further away though. I'm proud of myself because I didn't frantically call Dad begging for help. I did lean heavily on another person for support, but I feel it was appropriate and not dependent behavior. I'm relying on myself and the tools and skills I have to help me navigate and process my emotions.
… But I'm still very scared - Very scared. I'm going to talk more to Mom and Dad tonight, and I have a plan in place for continuing to handle the situation causing me so much distress… The situation that has me feeling so suicidal…
Suicidal - That's got me thinking… When I had the “crisis” call with my therapist last week, we talked about how I'm doing so well, and continuing to make progress in my recovery… But I still battle suicidal thoughts quite regularly… Anytime I am faced with a situation that causes me discomfort or distress - which is often because I am highly sensitive and reactive naturally - I go to that place… I go to my cell…
I guess lately, I've just been thinking more about how sad it is to have an illness that makes you want to die… An illness that puts those nasty thoughts in my head… People say I’m a darling, and call me Wonder Woman… They say I have a beautiful smile… But do they know how much pain I feel every single day? And how much it takes for me to wear that smile? … Fuck the smile - Do they know how much it takes for me to keep myself alive? - Every. Single. Day.
…
And now I'm thinking about him… The boy I love so very much, the boy I would do anything to protect. I don't think he’ll ever love me. I don't think we'll ever be together. Like I said before, that's fine. I just want him to be happy…. But I think part of the reason we wouldn't work out is because he knows I'm crazy. And I don't think he would ever want to take that on… And not in a mean way or anything… I just don’t think that’s something he feels like he could handle… And that makes me sad… Because maybe if I wasn't like this… Then maybe…
I wonder if I will ever find someone who can handle me… I don't know. I really, really, don't know… And that makes me so sad, and honestly so angry… Because why does He get to move on? Why does he get to live a normal, happy life, and have a bride and have babies? … While I'm here alone… Alone… Maybe forever… And maybe I should be. I don't know if I should have a partner. I certainly don't know if I should be a mother, and that breaks my heart. I don't know. I don't know. All I know is that He got to move on, and live a normal, happy life, and have a bride, and have babies, and these days I don't even have rose petals in the snow…
…
This morning the whole thing with my medication and almost being out, and not knowing if I had a refill… That really scared me… Because I am finding the medication so helpful… I think my level of emotional processing has been stable, and I've been at baseline for our medication trial, so the positive changes I'm seeing I attribute mostly to the medication…. So the medication is helping me… And in a lot of ways it's saving me… So I'm afraid to be without it…
I'm afraid I'm becoming dependent on it too though… That's definitely something to talk to my provider about… But then it's like a diabetic… You know? … Maybe I need medication in the same way a diabetic does… And that really does scare me, because what if they stop making my medicine, or what if it stops working? I didn't ask for my brain to be like this just like a diabetic doesn't decide to have diabetes... I'm terrified of going crazy again - I mean really crazy - Don't get me wrong, I still battle insanity everyday… But I haven't had a severe episode since I've been on the medication…
I'm so afraid… What will I do if it stops working? What if I do find someone to love, and I have a baby, but then my medication stops working… Or they stop making it, or something terrible happens? What if this situation I'm so worried about comes true… And what if I'm sued, and hated, and cast out, and jailed, and locked up in a small, tiny cell with bright white walls and stone surrounding me… And there's a straight jacket… And there's a noose… That I made… From dirty sheets… And it's covered in blood… And my wrists are split open from a failed attempt… But there I hang… Dead. - Dead by my own hand… Dead after they found me, and locked me up… Dead surrounded by rose petals in the snow. Dead after they wouldn’t even give me my medication.
9:36 pm
I'm going to sleep now. My mental is bad. Really bad.
I downloaded Tinder - I made an account and everything. I deleted it less than a minute later though… I accidentally sent out a like which freaked me out… And I just felt so damn guilty… Because I love my boys… My Dear John, and my brown eyed boy… And how could I do this to them? - Go on Tinder? … The whole thing just made me really sad… And realize how alone I am…
I'm sorry I can't do this. I need sleep. My eyes are closing and I'm losing consciousness. I took NyQuil. I've been fighting a cold the last few days. So I've been taking medicine. I know I don't need it anymore… And you know about my problem, right? I told you… NyQuil and Benadryl to help me sleep. NyQuil and Benadryl to quiet the noise… NyQuil and Benadryl to ease the pain…
I need sleep. I'm losing touch with reality. In a good way. I wasn't tired at first… I thought I'd have to take more medicine… But now it hit me thank God. I'm still so distressed about the situation. I needed this to force sleep. A rape of my mind. A rape I welcome gladly.
I ate too much I think. At dinner. Second helping. I didn't need it. Fat. Shrimp with veggies. Gluten free pasta. Avocado. Healthy. Too much though. I pray I wake up starving. If I don't I'll hate myself even more. I need to workout more tomorrow. An hour on the stair climber instead of 30 min. 1400 calories instead of 700. Plus 45 min of Pilates of course. Yeah, yeah… That should help… Yeah, that should help me sleep… Yeah, that should quiet the noise… Yeah, that should ease the pain…
I see my nutritionist Tue. If I've gained weight I'll die.
What was I thinking? I'm so tired.
I want to send a nude. To my Dear John or my brown eyed boy. That should get their attention, right? And I mean what do I have to lose? My dignity? HA! - That's gone… It died in my cell… Tangled and twisted up in the unwashed sheet wringing my neck…
I'm tired.
I'm sorry.
I need sleep.
Now.
I hope I get my period back soon.
I'm sad.
Rose petals in the snow.
Should I send it?
Saturday, October 4, 2025
2:49 pm
I’m very anxious. I want to ask Mom and Dad for help, but I don’t know how… I don’t know how to ask for help without weeping and gnashing my teeth…
Well… That’s not entirely true… I know how, I just don’t want to.
It’s not like before I received treatment for my BPD, then I really was not able to communicate my feelings with other people - Because I couldn’t even understand them myself… Now that I’ve had treatment, I can effectively communicate. Honestly, I probably do a better job of processing my emotions and communicating than people who are mentally well… But I’m only human, and sometimes I don’t want to do the work to process my emotions and communicate.
And sometimes, I still have bad spells - Times when my illness flares and becomes trapped in fight or flight mode… Teary eyes… Choked out words… Confusion… Unable to understand words being spoken… Unable to recognize faces…
But those bad spells always pass… I am so strong, and I am always able to process my way back to peace… Sometimes it takes a little help… And it always takes a little time… But that’s okay… Thanks to the Good Doctor who saved me, I have time - I have all my life. And I pray it is long, and healthy, and beautiful.
…
Now that I’m processing more, I realize I’m not having a true spell right now… Yes, I have felt myself staggering on the tightrope walk daily (sometimes with more grace than others) - In danger of falling off - Shutting down or lashing out… Falling back into the cold embrace of my illness’ arms… But this still isn’t a true spell - This is just me, taking time to process, taking time to ask for help… And I will know when I am ready to do that. I trust… I trust myself.
…
3:05 pm
“I know we have people coming over, but I need to talk to you and Dad about something. My anxiety is through the roof… I'm not sure if this is my mind playing tricks on me. I talked to none and they said I'm going down a dark road, and that everything is okay… That it’s my mind being mean to me… But I don’t know… I just need help processing…
3:31 pm
Mom and Dad helped me process and engage with my emotions more effectively. Now I feel more confident in my ability to take a healthy, integrated, and balanced view of the situation that has been causing me so much distress. I feel more at peace. I feel calmer. I'm so grateful to Mom and Dad, and I love them so much.
I'm also grateful to myself, and I have to remind myself that I deserve love too. I'm proud of the work I did processing independently. I’m also proud of myself for recognizing I needed more support in this situation, and for asking for help in a healthy way. I’m doing a good job.
4:35 pm
We have family over now - An early Thanksgiving dinner before we all go our separate ways for the winter. I'm with Mom in the kitchen. It’s just the two of us. She's cutting some bread and I'm eating some turkey I stole out of the Crock-Pot. I tell her that my head is really in a bad place today. She offers her support, and words of wisdom and encouragement. She reminds me that it's all okay. She reminds me that it's all in my head.
I think back to something I said when I was talking to Mom and Dad earlier… I said, “Sometimes I don't know how I'm alive. Even with treatment, I'm in so much pain. My head… It's such a terrible place to be much of the time…”
Then I told them about my cell. I told them what I saw. I told them I was suicidal because of the situation that has been causing me so much distress.
Dad told me it was all okay, but he also didn’t minimize my mental agony. He said, “I know logical thinking doesn't help when you’re feeling like that…” And I appreciated his understanding just as much as his support and advice.
And now it’s just Mom and me. Mom cutting bread from the local Patisserie, and me eating a piece of turkey - A little snack before dinner because I'm hungry and I deserve to eat. - Oh and by the way, I didn't do the extra workout today. I just did my normal routine (which I’ll admit is already excessive). I don't need to punish my body, not for eating. My body needs and deserves fuel. - But anyways, here I am now, in this warm and cozy kitchen, sun streaming in through the windows… I am safe. Mom is offering some more wisdom. She reminds me that the kind of thoughts I’ve been having - extreme, paranoid, and irrational - often come when I’m under extreme stress… Which I have been… I agree and tell Mom, “I live in a constant state of stress.” Mom looks sad and she says, “I know, but you're working on it, and you're fighting it. And everyday you get up, and you go and do good things, and that really is something.”
And I agree with her on that - It is something… You know it really is.
4:49 pm
I love my family. More than any words could ever describe… But these days it's very hard for me to be around them… They knew me before I lost my mind, and they knew me during, but I don't think they know me after…
9:16 pm
Our family gathering came to a close hours ago. It was lovely. I don't know why I was anxious… I didn't have to explain myself… I am so loved…
One of my aunts hugged me so long and hard and said she has missed me so much… And I almost started crying in her arms. She asked if I was happy. She said that's all that matters. I love her and she loves me. She wants to know me.
My other aunt offered me help without hesitation - I'm traveling in a few weeks for work and I'm very scared. She said she'd come with me. I also told her about my medication… About how it's helped me be present in reality. She said that was an amazing statement… Then she said, “I don't know if you can see this, but the journey you've been on has given you so much wisdom.” She continued, “But wisdom comes at a cost…” Yeah… The cost of my old life… The cost of my peace… The cost of my sanity… She laughed, “That's why there are so many stupid people walking around.” I laughed too. And honestly, as much pain as I still bear each and every day, I wouldn't trade my brain for anything. Because yes, it is in a constant state of pain, but it is incredible, and oh so wise… My aunt understands this… I love her and she loves me. She knows me.
Emotions around family dinner:
Positive Emotions Processed: Love, joy, warm, welcomed, happy, supported, safe, secure, understood, trust, hope, grateful, calm, peaceful, caring/cared for, humorous
Negative Emotions Processed: Fear, apprehensive, uncertain, hesitant, insecure, shame, guilt, sorry, embarrassed
Sunday, October 5, 2025
5:53 am
I just awoke from a dream.,. A nightmare really… You know I write to Him… Through you… I send Him messages… Publicly…
Well in my nightmare, He had a message for me - A comment on His new girl’s Facebook page. He praised her for being pure, and then slammed me, saying, “Blood ran down Veronica's thighs… Then she ran too…” He mocked me, and insinuated I was filthy. When I read His words (in my dream), I felt frantic, hurt, sad, helpless, embarrassed, and humiliated… Then I felt angry. Confident, and powerful, and angry - And I felt justified in that anger.
As I woke, I thought, “He’d better watch out… Foolish boy, mistaking my kindness for peace. I warn you - Never let your guard down. I may forgive you but I won't ever forget what you did to me.”
6:33 am
I’m still thinking about my dream… My dream mixed with reality… “Love ya always,” is what He commented on His new girl’s Facebook profile picture… A picture of them together… And I just think it’s funny, yeah I just think it’s strange… Because that’s what He first said to me, “Love ya,” only three dates in… By three dates in, He was saying He loved me, “So fucking much” … It looks like He’s been with this new girl for a little while now… More than three dates, certainly more than three days… Yet all she gets is, “Love ya always” … I think that shows a lack of commitment. Honestly.
You know what else I think is funny? Yeah, you know what else I think is strange? His new girl is a blonde, but she just started dying her hair dark brunette. Do you think she’s doing it… Because she kinda wants to look just like me? …
…
In my dream… He referred to me as “Veronica,” in His comment… In reality, in all the years we were together… I don’t think He ever called me by my own name… I was reduced to “Baby” - Ownership, branded on me like a barcode… “Baby” - Easily transferable - Transferable to the wanna be dark brunette, who’s trying to look just like me. Well save your energy, “Baby,” me is something you will never achieve.
…
And now I’m just thinking about him, the boy I’ve never really spoken to… The boy I know I could talk to… I’m thinking about how I love the way he says my name, “Veronica,” Veronica” - So beautiful coming from his lips. So beautiful and so whole.
8:38 am
“Did you do the stair climber?”
“Yes, I did! Haha!”
“I’ve gotta start doing that - So I can look like you!”
Gosh… Isn’t it just crazy… That others admire me with the same intensity I loathe me?
10:21 am
“That was wonderful!”
“So lovely!”
“You are such a beautiful presence, you have such a gentle nature - In everything you do…”
“You will be such a wonderful mom, because you are so sweet and your voice is so soft and soothing..”
…
On my good days it is… I flashback to my episodes… Screaming… Weeping… Gnashing of teeth. And oh I love you for giving me hope - Hope that I can someday be a mom, hope that I can someday have a baby… But I fear the hope you give me is false… Yeah, I fear I will never be a mom… Yeah, I fear I will never have a baby…
…
“Blood ran down Veronica's thighs… Then she ran too…”
… Maybe I will never be a mom… Because I already lost my baby…
6:49 pm
“I can't lie
I'm still troubled in my mind sometimes
Since you left girl
Since you left, yeah
…
I can't lie
Your body fresh up on my mind girl
When I'm with her, when I'm with her
You're so young couldn't grow up
You were too drunk couldn't go home
I'm calling you out, come over
…
Let's make love shorty
Let's make love shorty
Like we did way back then
I know you been reminiscing
Call me your shorty
Just call me your shorty
I miss what we did
Lately I been reminiscing…”
…
(Call Me, by Pink Sweats)
I think the sunset tonight is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. No words can really describe it. The sun is flamingo pink… It's setting behind the rolling hills I admire daily on my walks. Pale and forest green foliage reflect in clear water on the horizon. The rest of the sky is a melting pot of colors. But tonight it’s not my cotton candy sky, or my lilac and clementine sky… Tonight, it’s a splatter of pastels and watercolors… It reminds me of me…
I've been thinking about myself more lately. I think my essence is a watercolor painting come to life. Delicate and fragile, complex and mysterious. Sometimes angry, sometimes loving. Sometimes peace, sometimes longing. Sometimes sadness, sometimes joyful. Sometimes pain, yet always beautiful - Always something to look at.
Never an answer, always a question.
Yes, I do believe the embodiment of my soul is a watercolor painting. A stolen Monet, lost and hidden away.
“... Yeah if you give me just one night
You're gonna see me in a new light
Yeah if you give me just one night
To meet you underneath the moonlight…”
…
(New Light, by John Mayer)
…
Then what about all the boys I’ve loved before? - What about their essence?
He is Benadryl. A sickly sweet thick cherry liquor. I feel sick to my stomach when I remember Him, and I get those terrible shivers of disgust get after you swallow cough medicine. Now that I think about it, He’s like the NyQuil I have a hard time stopping… A Band-Aid on a bullet hole… A coverup… A fix before I found myself.
My Dear John is cotton candy of course. Innocent, child-like. A loving golden retriever that runs up to you, tail wagging… Whole body wagging… Sweet, but empty… And no matter how much you have, you’re never really full…
And then there's my brown-eyed boy. I struggle to find a singular earthly thing to sum up the essence of his soul. I don't quite understand him… I think he's a mystery… Like me… A question rather than an answer. I think I know him and yet I know I don't…. But when I think of him and his essence I think of stability and safety. A rock, a rock that will keep me secure… But I think there's some imbalance in him too. I see him as an artist. A painter - Confident and assertive, but always wanting… Never quite content and in desperate need of release… I like to think I could be his release, his muse… I like to think that he could paint me up like a Monet… Color me whole in breathtaking pastel watercolors… Make me a swan, or a field of daisies… Or a collage of rose petals scattered in the snow… I like to think he would erase the pain from my memories, painting them ways, painting me beautiful, painting me whole.
Will you?
…
And now I'm just thinking that maybe the sunset isn't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I think he is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen - My brown eyed boy, with the essence of a painter… But I wonder what he thinks of me…
“... And all the things that I know
That your parents don't
They don't care like I do
Nowhere like I do
And all the things that I know
That your parents don't
They don't care like I do
Nowhere like I do
Nowhere like I do..”
…
(Saturday Nights, by Khalid)
7:11 pm
Now the flamingo pink sun has been replaced by a shimmering white moon… It’s full… Or almost full… I don't know, I don't know! - All I know is I just feel so good, and so peaceful! Crickets are chirping, they sound like love. The moon is shining, illuminating my world and the otherwise dark night sky. I'm thinking about him and I'm wondering if he's looking up at the moon too… Thinking about me… I know he isn't, but it's a pretty thought now, isn't it? -Pretty like a Monet, pretty like me… Oh baby won't you paint me? Paint me like a Monet, oh please!
“... I can't lie
Your body fresh up on my mind girl
When I'm with her, when I'm with her
You're so young couldn't grow up
You were too drunk couldn't go home
I'm calling you out, come over
…
Let's make love shorty
Let's make love shorty
Like we did way back then
I know you been reminiscing
Call me your shorty
Just call me your shorty
I miss what we did
Lately I been reminiscing…”
…
(Call Me, by Pink Sweats)
9:18 pm
I wanted to send a nude…
But…
You CANNOT do that to him
Is my body; my love, so wrong? - Poison. My love is poison.
My Monet is not so pretty now. Now it's warm pastels are cold. Cold like rose petals in the snow. I am hanging in my cell. They take me down. Down from the cross I nailed myself to. My body lays out on the cold, bright white stone floors. My sky blue skirt parachutes around me… It’s covered in daisies… Daisies and regret.
I would never do anything to hurt you, I would never do anything to hurt him
But I did, didn't I? I hurt you, and I hurt him by loving him.
Yes, my love is poison, and I don't deserve to live.
…
How much would they sell my painting for? My Monet? My body laid bare… Tangled and twisted in the remnants of the noose I hung myself from - My sky blue skirt painted with sunny daisies… Spattered with blood from my slit wrists. A failed attempt.
Dark ebony locks frame my face… The way His arm framed me… My first hit of love… My first taste of that drug… Age sweet sixteen… Huddled together in two cheap movie theatre seats… Watching a clown chase children… A nightmare… Like us…
Fading red lips like the dried blood on my wrists are pursed… Ready to answer the neverending question… Ready to profess my love… To my brown-eyed boy… To my painter… Slain before they could…
My once sparkling eyes are rolled back in my head… My Dear John - Just like he made them roll back that final holy night… Just like he made them roll back that final holy night… His face playing in my mind as I die… A highlight in the movie that was my life.
White skin - As white as snow…
Red blood - As red as rose petals in the snow…
My gold virgin stolen off of my breast…
My body ravaged and sold as pornography…
Crimson red nails and toes…
No shoes, bare feet…
They took my shirt…
They divided my garments amongst themselves…
They cast lots at my wake…
A pale blue body suit…
“Snap, snap” …
Parted my seas…
That is my Monet.
Oh someone please… Paint me another Monet… Paint me out of this horrid place… Save me; Paint me free.
9:53 pm
I don't know what's wrong with me, but I'm in a very dark place. I won't dance around it - I'm fantasizing about suicide just like I did in the good old days. The days and years I slept away. The days and years I could not even remember my own name… I'm depressed, helplessly so. I'm a wreck, desperately though… And I see myself walking… Walking a tightrope… The overpass by Costco… A blue skirt with daisies bellows around my silhouette … Arms out wide in a T, “I'm the king of the world!” … Falling, dancing, a ballerina in the sky… Crime scene tape below. My broken, deformed body tangled and twisted… A shattered porcelain doll. Pieces of me litter pavement… Rose petals in the snow… A smile on my face.
The making of a Monet. Pain. I am the painter.
9:58 pm
I've definitely been overeating
Fucking pig
Fat
Fatty
Fat
Fatty
I hate myself
I'm suicidal
Fuck
9:59 pm
I need sleep. I have to get an endoscopy tomorrow. I need sleep. It's hard though. I think everyone hates me. I want to retreat from this world.
I will self-soothe
I will picture my hospital room
As much as I fear the hospital and the white coats and being locked up
The hospital also makes me feel safe
I find comfort in the clean and clinical bright white
Walls
Floors
Lights
All white
No watercolors
They silence me
They erase my colors
They destroy my Monet
My art
My brain
But it keeps me safe.
