Doing It Scared Until You Don't

I'm a big champion of "doing it scared"-- doing something even if it terrifies you. It's absolutely hard to always practice by virtue of doing things that scare you, but its a good thing to stick by. 

I feel like I'm doing everything scared these days. It's not quite a different kind of scared. Its still the same fears of not being good enough, of things not panning out and going the way I planned but now there's more.  I'm scared of myself, of the world, my ability to survive. I'm scared of getting up and eating. I'm scared to make make decisions on what to watch. 

I'm scared to exist and too scared to die. 

I don't know where to go from here. I have a therapist appointment next monday. I'm gonna be going back to my rental for the week starting tomorrow. I'm scared I'm going to be more a danger to myself but maybe getting out of this house will be good for me. I've been taking my meds consistently. I don't know if this is the meds. I don't feel much better. Honestly I feel worse. I don't know if its all me or both. 

For the first time I thought about setting a date. Not an exact one, but a month. A maybe, because everything that comes after then terrifies me. 

I managed to offload one of my stresses to a roommate. I don't know if its being done to the degree I'd want it to. I can't find it in myself to care. 

I thought real hard about doing actual harm. Got really close to it too. Put the corner of the razor on my hand and just scraped the top. Only enough to see that white line of dry skin. Did a couple lines like that. The thing holding me back is that it'd be much too obvious. Its too damn hot and I've been dressing as minimally as I can be to beat the heat. There's nowhere it can be without it being immediately obvious. Its a kind of fucked up logic--"If I'm gonna hurt myself I'm gonna make sure it'll be no ones worry". 

I went back to biting. It did not feel like sensory fulfillment. My skin doesn't bruise easily and it bounces back quick enough.  

I went on a walk yesterday. Thought real hard about just walking until my legs gave out. Seeing how far I could get to the other side of town on foot. Walking into a forest. The middle of the street. I made it about a kilometre before I looped back around home. 

Last Saturday I was stuck at a family picnic. Ended up in a conversation with an uncle where he asked if I was interested in project management, if I'd ever consider it. When I'm happy I feel like I could live doing a boring job. Thinking about doing that now feels like its own kind of death. I'd be good at it. I'm sure I'd be good at it. I don't know if I'd live through doing it. I don't know if I'll live to try. I don't know how future me will feel. I'd hope they're better.