Letters

I went to therapy Tuesday.
I told her everything that's been going on.
She told me to rate my thoughts on death from 1-10.
I didn't really know what she meant so i said what I say every time im asked to rate something.
7.
Her eyes widened and she asked me why I thought it wasn't a ten, after i described to her in detail my thoughts I guess she was shocked it could get worse.
I told her that my 7 is me checking everyday to make sure my escape is still in its hiding place.
And 8 would be me pulling it out, inspecting it and daydreaming.
My 9 would be me attempting, almost doing it but pussing out.
And a 10 would be me in a hospital.
She gave me the number of a crisis hotline and then she called my mom to make sure someones always with me and always watching me.
She says she has to have a conference with my mom on friday, and another with me monday. She says if I ever feel like an 8 I belong in a hospital. 10 or not apparently I need to be admitted.
Im afraid of myself sometimes.
I dont even understand my own mind,
All ive been doing today is drawing for an english project and downing energy drink after energy drink.
Ive been trying to stay awake as much as I can so i have more time to myself.
Being surrounded by so much life is stressful, sometimes you just need time for yourself.

Notes