Normally I hate getting into deep personal stories, but today I don't care. It's six thirty in the morning.
Today it has been one year since I've harmed myself. Now that accomplishment is being tested.
The lesser of two evils, but still awful, I went to a salon to have my bright red hair changed to a light brown. She died it black. I look terrible. I hate it.
After going to sleep way later than I should have, I was awoken by my best friend at two in the morning.
His house burned down.
I was blindsided with this information and suffered a massive panic attack big enough to take down a goddamn rhino.
So here I am in a crippled mass, congratulating myself on one year cut free, and I can't breathe.