It's been two wild weeks. I've passed from sleeping +14h a day to 2-5h and today I had to work.
So I said fuck it if I die I die but I only work two hours a week and I want that money. I kept my cool until the class finished and I headed to the subway.
There a man was... manspreading next to me, so I imitated his posture, pressing my legs against his (but only in my designated space, mind you). He called me out and muttered "asshole". Then, I snapped. I started screaming bloody murder at him about how rude and entitled he was and he got off as we arrived in the next stop. But I was shaking with anxiety and I still had an hour and a half of commute. I stopped midway to get a portable battery for my phone cause it was dying and the idea of my phone dying was scaring me to death, I'm very dependant on it.
I finally got home. Everything felt weird, missplaced, but I couldn't put my finger on it until I saw my dog. It was blue. It's still blue. Even if I know for a fact that he isn't.
I had to rip off my pj's trousers bc the stormtrooopers were watching me and the kittens in my pillow are loking at me with hatred.
I have a huge urge to self harm, so I called the suicide hotline and the lady was really nice. She told me to call an ambulance (in my country we have free healthcare), but I can't. The idea of being in the psych ward again terrifies me.
So I'm gonna take a shitload of meds (not enough to kill me, I've tried before, so no danger) and I'm going to cuddle my fucking blue dog and sleep for a couple of days.
Have you ever experienced anything like this or have I totally lost it?