And, and. [triggering:SH&suicide]

I did see Debbie today, after art group.

On a note completely unrelated to our therapy stuff, there's a cup that's been in the room we usually use for a couple of months. I suggested we use the cup to grow a flower or something, and see how long it takes for somebody else to notice. Debbie said she thought that was a cool idea, so on Monday we're going to plant something in the cup. Obviously we have to bring in potting mix and seeds, but still.

I'm still so low. Debbie used the word consuming. The emotions, the lowness, is consuming, it's overwhelming, it eclipses all else. Consuming was a good word for her to use because it showed me she understands how big and also how terrible this thing is.

She said that the fact I am having really strong urges to self-harm, and that I want to kill myself, but I'm not doing these things, is a success in and of itself. My chest feels weird that she thinks it's success simply that I am alive. Is that a good thing? Or a bad thing? My body will not die. I wish it would. I wish everything would stop hurting.

She said about not using distractions to avoid the emotions. I said that when the emotions constantly come back, it's not really avoidance, because I'm still feeling it. And oh, how melancholy, that I will feel this periodically until the day I day. How much I wish to bring that day forwards.

My kitchen knife is starting to look so tempting. I want to slice my arm open, wreck the tendons, watch my hand dangle, separate from muscular control. I want to slash across my throat, destroying my carotid, piercing my jugular. Bleeding out viciously, dying quickly, no way out, no way back, no salvation. I want to swallow all my pills. Sit cross-legged on the motorway. Drink until I don't feel any more.

I am so lost. People shine small lights but my darkness swallows them.