So.

[nachtspiegel]

I've been having really bad mood swings. Bi-Polar rapid cycling sucks and I am amazed that I came out of last weekend without some serious wounds or another suicide attempt on my hands.
Anyway, I know that when I see my psychiatrist (medicine doctor) on December 5th, I'm running the risk of going back to a placement/hospital. I feel like I need to be honest and tell him/her all of the thoughts and feelings I have been having, but at the same time, I have a lot going on in December and going back to the hospital would ruin everything.
(And then I think... what use will you be if you end up six feet under because of this?)

Recently, I've been missing that place. Missing the routine. It was a safe place. I got away from here. I managed to take my mind off of some things that I shouldn't have let (and shouldn't be letting) take such control of my life.

Has anyone else here been in a placement and missed being there afterward?
It's been almost six months since I got out.
I feel like I should've been honest instead of lying to get out sooner.

[Atonement]

When I was in the hospital "Behavior Ward" I loved the routine, the safe feeling, the predictablilty. I left, and I was happy to be out. But sometimes I just wish I could go back where there isn't a worry in the world. Where I can be who I am without fear of judgement.

As for you, my dear friend...

I think you need to tell your psychiatrist. I'd rather have you away from us for a while, than being dead. You need the help, it works, we know, and if you die and could've gone, it would be just a tragedy.

[nachtspiegel]

I think you're right, but if I go back into another placement, my mom and sister will both disown me. My mom tries to act supportive, but the last time before I overdosed, I called her several days prior, telling her that I needed help, and she just said that we had to wait "until something worse happens." When something worse did happen, she asked the nurse for information about placing me in state's custody because she couldn't "deal with this bullshit."

When I was in the hospital the last time, my sister made it a campaign to tell everyone that I only do "these things" to "get attention." She acted like my best friend to my face and we never talked it out.
We just fought, she threatened to beat the shit out of me, and eventually, we were okay.

She found my cutting tools in my room the other day and I think that she would've beaten the shit out of me (as she told me that she wanted to do) had it not been for her boyfriend's friend being over at the time. I am not afraid of her, but I could never hit her back. She tries to act like my mother (because our mother wasn't really there for us like she should've been,) and she feels like threatening to lay hands on me will change my habits.

I was walking near a bridge when I was walking back up here from my brother's and I had to start walking twice as fast because I started having an urge to go jump off of the bridge. I was walking so fast by the time that I was on my block that I could barely breathe.

[Atonement]

You need to do what is best for you. Yeah, they may be upset, but would they rather have you go into treatment or kill yourself? sadly, I think I might have just answered my own question. Which it really is a shitty situation.

But really, you need to think of yourself right now. You need to get help.

[nachtspiegel]

This weekend was a little bit better. I was occupied nearly the entire time and barely had time to slow down. When I did cut, it wasn't deep enough to bleed, but two friends of mine saw the marks on my left leg after a friend of mine accidentally stepped on my pants leg and shredded it up the back and it fell around.
I was feeling fine on Saturday night, and then, before I knew it, I was searching my friend's mother's bedroom looking for the chance to overdose. Then I got really paranoid and hid in the closet. A few minutes later, my friend's younger sister came up the stairs, screaming, because my friend and her boyfriend (who is also a good friend of mine) had scared the shit out of her and I ended up watching Knocked Up with her for over an hour before I went downstairs and fell asleep on the floor.
I woke up yesterday morning feeling primarily fine, and the day went on pretty uneventfully. I came back from my friend's house and tried to keep myself around other people (because I am all too aware of what happens when I am alone.) I had to pull an all-nighter because I hadn't fallen asleep on Sunday morning until 6am and I got out of bed at 2pm. At 11 o'clock last night, my target time to go to bed, I was nowhere near ready to sleep. Now, I am worn down but I have a child to take care of until at least 2pm, when I feel like I have some chance of dragging her father out of bed. This morning, I found myself fall from a cheerful mood to a desperate maneuver to break apart a disposable razor to get the blades.
I eventually succeeded and the end result led to me frantically cleaning out the bath tub and the bathroom floor before my sister dragged herself out of bed an hour and a half ago to get ready for work. Luckily, I managed to clean up the mess because it was a slightly horrific sight. I have my next therapy appointment (I couldn't go to the appointment last Thursday because I had no way to get there) on December 4th and I meet my psychiatrist on December 5th. I know that it's not entirely far, and I could be having to wait much longer, but it seems to be an almost insurmountable task to make it all the way there. It sounds so far away and I don't know if I can trust myself.
Damnit.