I didn’t want to kill myself, I just got so desperate and cut myself and had to get stitches. This time they didn’t admit me but my psychiatrist had out me on medication. My therapist is seeing me through Skype. I wish I had asked for help just a few days ago, maybe my life wouldn’t be imploding and my husband wouldn’t have left me. He said he can’t handle another episode, and I was and am in one. But this time I’m getting help before it gets as bad as the last one: I think he was always waiting for this to happen again, half out the door waiting for the final straw

But we’ve only got ourselves and we have to live for ourselves. People can help us, but we have to want to live for ourselves.

Sore for rambling. I’m still in shock, I think

I hope you’re doing okay.