Breathing in Tears

Second day of starting semester 5 and I already feel like kissing an oncoming train.
Credits to Bo for that reference. 

I left my mug at Sis's place and the cafes don't sell any mugs so I can't make any coffee in my room. Leaves me with pretty much bare mentality to brace the class and schedules and stupid lecturer rules that don't make fucking sense.

I haven't taken my meds since end of January cause I ran out and I need to make an appointment again soon to replenish my stocks because I know I'm gonna fucking need them to survive this semester. I barely survived second day, for fuck's sake.

I've forgotten how loud the class is and how intense the headache they emanate. 
Plus, some lecturers we get this semester are particularly obnoxious in the way that we have to dress exactly like they want even going as far as nitpicking on types of shoes and nametags.

Also, how the classes are put together in the schedule is fucking ridiculous.

Why in the fuck would you put fucking drama, where we have to wear pants and casual clothes for actions and stretches, next to the reading class where the fucking lecturer is making it compulsory for us to be in absofuckinglute formal attire?
Fucking why?

I thought drama was gonna be fun. 
It was just awkward, at least for me. And I was even looking forward to it, too.
After the whole fucking formal attire shit and having to apparently bring change of clothes just for these two fucking classes, the disappointment was heavier than I thought.
Adding to have to work with some unfavorable people for drama takes the win.

I grew tired.
My anxiety is shot to hell down and back and my insides are twisting like a threatened snake. My head fucking hurts, I can't fucking breathe, and it felt like semester 2 all over again. I either want to smash my head split open against the wall, or curl up into a ball in a small and cramped dark corner.

Beloved helped, though. He talked me out of it and distracted me with sweet things.
I was gonna reach out to Amelia because I thought it'd be something she'd want to be aware of, but I thought of how her schedules and practices are super packed and she's been down with sickness often recently...she deserves more rest.
Not that I'm saying beloved doesn't need his rest, but he was already there with me, so..
Forgive this selfishness of mine.

I just realized how easily he makes me cry with relief.
For so long ago, I would pray and pray and wish for tears to come so that this searing burning choking pain would be directed into someplace else. When that didn't happen, I resolved to cutting. Because if tears isn't an option, then blood is the next best thing.
If I cry, everything would be fine.

And he does that with ease.
Almost as easily as when I hear sis's voice.
This is neither an opinion nor a thought. Considering I am merely stating a play by play of recollection what happened, this is fact. The fact is that when I talk to him, I can cry.
And that's good.

It makes me feel safe, knowing my subconscious deems him able for tears when everything in me is fucking suffocating. Because there is only two person who are on this list, and that is Amelia and Sis. A person my subconscious deems safe and home and loves me and whom I love in return. When everything is burning, and the fire chokes.

By the time classes end at 5 p.m for the day, I was at least calm again.
Able to function beyond curling up into a ball under my blanket the whole night.
I'd laughed and relaxed and putting up schedules for another day.
It used to take me nearly overnight for me to calm down, and now, it's done within hours.
No need for night terrors to return nor nightmares nor panic attacks in my sleep.

Because he's staying.