Rage.

I am enraged, this fucking fiery oblivion, this hatred, I feel enveloped by it. I feel I have no control. I do not believe there are actively suicidal desires, only passive thoughts and urges. I am cutting far too often now, something that I have not done in years. It seems to be every fifteen minutes, at least. I had to stay my hand earlier, as I was uncertain I could stop the bleeding. I know how to suture a wound, so there is no issue there, but still...my own sudden obsession worries me.

This happened before, a few months ago, but not with the same intensity in cutting. And somehow, we must still arrive for work tomorrow. It is warmer outside, and again we will be on the pan-deck. There are no excuses for long-sleeves this week.

I am lost, overwhelmed. This vile and loathsome existence does not suit me. Someone suggested a website with games with which to keep myself occupied. Another suggested speaking online via Messanger. Of course, I am grateful for the suggestions. I will even employ them soon. However, I am still tense. I need to use my body to alleviate this pent-up rage. I need to run, to scream, to flail madly until I collapse. And I cannot.

How I wish I could retreat, at the same time. How I wish I could step away, to collect my thoughts and calm myself. For fuck's sake, I hate this.