Birthday Flowers

I’m not one for birthdays, not one to make a fuss. I wasn’t bothered about turning 40. Didn’t want a celebration or a specific present and told people to just treat it like any other birthday. Present wise I would be happy with book vouchers.

I enjoyed my day, spending it with my favourite person; Lewis.

But since then I have been freaking out, that’s the only word to describe it.  Freaking out about dying.  Dad was only 58 when he died, what if I only have 18 yrs to go. Or less. Or more. More time feeling like this. But then maybe I’m ok about that. Because yes, I still feel suicidal at times.  All of a sudden 40 seems to be a whole new world, the downward slide to death.

Today I woke far too early. I have cried, got scared, had a panic attack, have such a sore burning chest and self-harmed. I can’t talk to my counsellor anymore. I genuinely don’t know how to stop thinking like this.