Sometimes I get these moments when I'm alone -everything gets so intense. The world seems to spin slower and the air is still. My heart begins to beat a million miles a second and I can feel everything. I can feel it on my skin and in my hair and behind my eyes. In my mouth, in my lungs, through  my veins. It hurts a kind of blunt pain that makes me feel sick.
I can't move or think I can only exist in a never ending kind of way that feels infinite. I get so tired, and at the same time I get so scared. I'm afraid to sleep, afraid to shut my eyes because of what I'm going to think. And yet, I'm afraid to be awake because of that reason also, and of what my thoughts will make me do.
It's getting worse, everyday. The other night was just the beginning and I can only imagine what I would have done if the scissors hadn't been blunt.
I can feel it coming on all the time, like I'm a second away from breaking. People don't understand how close I am and that hurts. Like people don't think I'll do something, like I'm not serious. And not in a good way, they think I'm putting it on.
Why would anyone fake this feeling? It's not fun.
It's fucking terrifying.
Being scared of yourself, having something beneath yourself that calls the shots -it's not desirable. Is this what people believe I'm doing? Making it up?
Bullshit.
I don't want to be alone, but I don't want the intimacy of another person. I don't like people holding me or touching me or pretending they care.
And that's contradictory, I know. But I can't help it.
It doesn't know what it wants.

--Andria