It's probably not the case, but it feels like my mood swings are getting worse. And they seem so much less justified than even a few days ago. I'm so confused. I'm losing some of my hours at work; I know that. I don't know how many yet and I don't know how I'll survive the pay cut. But then I got accepted to a good university for a good postgraduate course (which I'm not sure how to fund) and I'm trying to make that mean I have something to live for.
But the truth is that none of that matters when the aching starts. When there's that horrible empty pressure in my throat and my chest. When I end up sat at home writing lists of what I want people to know, to do, to have, if I don't get through it this time. Because it doesn't feel like I'm in control here. I try to be. I try so very hard to be. But I don't know how to beat it except by playing along. Lucid Iris, conscious Iris, smart Iris wants to see her friends again. But then there's this 'other me' that gets overpowering. And it gets to the point where I start to think that, actually, it's not like they don't have other friends. My Girl would find another girlfriend, The Boy has all his university friends and my family don't need this shit anyway. And what's the point of a place at university if I can't fund it?
And that's how the compromises start. How I end up taking risks or making plans. I tell myself I'll stave it off but 'just in case', I'll write a note or itemise my possessions. Or maybe I'll get as far as counting out my tri-cyclics, painkillers and other medications. Maybe I'll 'just' calculate the dosage of this or that I would need for my body weight. Maybe I'll 'just' try to strangle myself, or cut slightly closer to a visible blood vessel this time.
Maybe one day I'll go too far. That scares me, and right now I'm glad it does.
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