Okay so technically, it's the second, but it's the very end of my day, therefore I am writing for the first.

I'm going to attempt to make sure that this makes sense, although if it does... whoops~.

Today I was going to try to wake up by nine, but then I realised that my alarms might wake my housemates up, so I decided to use my usual alarms... And I didn't wake up until like, ten? I was really grumpy. 

After breakfast I went back to bed (as per usual, but I really shouldn't). I dreamt that I was in a wheelchair but did gymnastics, and for the Nationals, I had to participate in a tractor for it to be fair to everyone else (??????).

I woke up panicking because my mom wasn't there like she had been in my dream. As a side note, that brings up one problem: I only have five days of anti-depressants/anxiety meds left, no refills, and no appointment in sight... withdrawal and suicidal-ness here I come!

I scrubbed down the kitchen wall (it had spaghetti sauce splattered everywhere) and then did the dishes. Then I sat down and played Paper Mario for a few hours and did the dishes and took the garbage out (which I rarely do, yay!) but felt like shit afterwards, emotionally. Yay.

I played more, and then Kelly got home. Eventually, Derek got home. We went to the corner store and got ice cream and came back (even though it's less than half a mile, round-trip, sweat was rolling down my everywhere and everything hurt and I thought i was going to pass out...) and got pizza ordered.

We watched Free Birds while we ate.

Do you want to know how I'm doing overall, emotionally, though? Shitty. Really fucking shitty. I'm barely holding the suicidal thoughts back and I'm ready to start hurting myself again. Even though Felicia Day and all of my friends would be so unhappy with me... If they never found out, though...

Anyway, that's where I'm at right now. I've decided to put how long I've been clean at the bottom of these, instead of signatures or whathaveyou. So here:

9 weeks 1 day (clean)