Slipping Under

Okay, so I'm having a really bad day. I've tried really, really, REALLY hard to do positive things, such as my last post on Buddhism, and then I went to Ashtanga Flow Yoga, and I ate Butter Chicken and Jasmine Rice from Trader's Joe's while watching last night's episode of Glee on my iMac. Yes, I said it. I watch Glee. Go fuck yourself. Wow, anger. Okay, that's good, I let myself be angry. I know I'm probably being judged by Glee-haters, but I'm letting that go. For this moment.
And then Glee ended. And now I'm alone, in my studio apartment. And all that's left to do, all I want to do, is go find someone, ANYONE, to distract myself with. I want to text all the guys I know to go hang out. Except Steven. Because around him, I can be myself. And right now, I don't want to be myself.

I am trying SO FUCKING HARD TO MOVE ON. I am trying so hard to do better, to leave the borderline in my past. I'm doing GREAT at my job, and it's even been giving me an opportunity to practice thinking in shades of gray. I'm new at this job, so I'm not perfect, and I've made mistakes. And it's good for me because I've been able to remind myself not to get caught up in this moment, and to let my anxiety pass and welcome the next experience, which has always been success.

Oh my goodness, I can feel my firefighter coming out. I want to go flirt, I want attention, I want distraction. I want to be someone else right now. And I can feel a retired firefighter surfacing. I can see her staring longingly at the blade on my counter, imagining how cool it will feel against her inner thighs. How tangible the pain will be. How structured and predictable the pain is. She doesn't want to die, and she doesn't want people to see her cuts...she just wants to refocus, and since the pain can't go away maybe she can reject it.

Dear God, Please make me a bird, so I can fly, fly far, far away from here...

Oh God. I'm slipping. I can feel the darkness coming, taking me over. I tried. I failed. And I'm alone.