I had a hypo and didn’t treat it. The goal of slipping into a coma seemed pretty attractive to me. I had that hypo because I gave myself too much insulin, knowingly. My folks and daughter arrived back home and my step Dad sat with me until he saw me treat the hypo. Two spoons of sugar and here I am, having to still be here, having to still be on the verge of a complete nervous breakdown.
He sat outside with me while I chain smoked and talked sense. I won’t deny that everything he said makes sense, about moving forward and that they are scared I’m going to hurt myself (again). I kept it to myself that I had just overdosed on insulin.
I’m so sick of this. He gets to have a life, be happy and not have to care about what he’s caused. My god, what he’s caused, it’s fucking carnage.
We all had lunch together but it was mostly silence, down to me being the huge elephant in the room. I’ve broken free and I’m back in the bathroom, door locked and ready to give in again.
I give up, I really do.
The PC in charge of the case messaged me midst all of this, I revealed just how bad I have gotten.
I need a lot of help, I need some form of justice.