The Morning After

Hello. I think I'll try to write how I'm feeling in these little journals because I don't really ever write about myself. I'm used to thinking about what I'm feeling but I never really write it down. These are public for anyone who wants to relate, but they're mostly for me to get things off my chest. 

Every morning after a night like last night is always strange for me. Last night was the first night that I thought very seriously about killing myself. I never thought I'd get that bad. I texted a support line that was slightly robotic and scripted, but they sent me a link to this site. Since then I've posted on a depression page and four people commented on it. I've never felt so cared for in the last 6 months. Throughout the last 6 months I've felt completely alone, but after seeing the people who have gone through similar experiences leave comments on my posts...I feel like I'm part of something. 

So, anyways, last night was a tough one. I was really down in the dumps. Mornings after nights like those are so strange to me. I feel numb, but everything seems to be moving twice as fast as me. Every sense is sharper and more real, almost like my brain is trying to soak everything in. I feel vulnerable and delicate. It's so strange. I always feel ashamed of the things I did last night, the cutting, the reaching out, the inability to just cry. But I've decided that I'm not going to be ashamed of myself anymore. What I'm feeling is real and it isn't for attention. I'm tired of invalidating myself. Okay, I'm going to go make some snickerdoodles.