I am at my most suicidal point in weeks. I am terrified and heartbroken and relapsing is killing me. The tears won’t stop coming and the zopiclone/diazepam/propranolol concoction I took isn’t working. I don’t want to be alive anymore, to hear your fake apologies and your assumptions about me. I want to overdose and sleep until tomorrow evening when I can cry into your arms. I am devastated at what my life has become, an endless line of people I love, hurting me with all of their strength, trying to break me down, to push me over the edge. The final episode has occurred. I have been pushed over the edge.