urgent care

What do I write? How do I explain? I almost died tonight, I guess, according to my father and urgent care.

Shortly after writing my last entry, I completely lost control. I dissociated. It was a knee-jerk reaction. I couldn't stop it. One second I was here, in the world, and then I was gone. I wasn't suicidal. You know that. I don't even remember cutting my wrist. But I guess I did. When I woke up, the cut was deep and blood was everywhere. I was still cutting. It was bleeding so much I was worried about the artery. My father said I almost cut it. He said I'm really lucky I'm not dead.

I threw out all the razorblades. My mom drove into the driveway. I stood there, dripping blood, and I said I needed stitches, quickly. My dad drove up and I got in the car and we went to urgent care. They gaved me five (or six can't remember) stitches across my wrist, told me I'm lucky I didn't nick any tendons because they were all exposed.

Oh yeah, that was what woke me up. I felt a tendon with the razorblade and it sent a tingling shot up into my hand.

They wanted to admit me to the same psychiatric hospital I was at in eigth grade, but my parents called my counselor and my psychiatrist and I explained to them that I wasn't suicidal. Hearing about Josh triggered that horrible dissociative reflex. I don't know what happened after that because I don't remember it, but I must have pried some new blades out of a razor and sat on my bedroom floor and sobbed as I cut my wrist. I woke up with tears on my face. I explained all this to them, and they said I didn't have to go to the hospital. I have to sleep in my parents' room for a few nights. I have to see my psychiatrist tomorrow and my counselor on friday. I have to figure out how to make it so this never happens again.

They all kept saying how lucky I was that I didn't die...

I am angry that I did this. It won't help anything. How am I going to explain six stitches on my wrist for two weeks? What will I tell people? People don't just accidentally cut their wrists.

My hand is still numb from the anasthetic (maybe the same kind they sent in massive overdoses into my Sandy a week ago). They injected it directly into the wound because the nerves were exposed.

I'm such a failure. I was supposed to be strong for Josh... I didn't want this to happen. I wanted to be steady for him. Apparently ibuprofin can cause serious liver damage, so I'm a bit worried about him...

When he most needed me I went and almost killed myself. Now my parents aren't sure if I'll be allowed to see him next month. But I'll fight for it. It's so hard to be so far away and to be so worried...

It feels unreal. I feel so weird. The cut was a quarter of an inch deep. I had to explain to all the nurses and doctors that I did it to myself but I didn't mean to.

I just want to sleep and sleep until this all goes away.