So....in spite of everything that I've written both here and other places, last night was such a wipe-out that I ended up calling boyshrinks stand-in. I've seen her a couple of times when I've been in hospital, and like and respect her. That was around midnight, after I'd taken quite a few extra sleeping tabs, just to try get myself to sleep, but without much effect.
It was one of those idiotic calls, because I wasn't going to go to the hospital, and I'd already taken more meds than I should have, so she couldn't really do much except acknowledge that I was kind of distraught and then tell me to go to bed, and to come see her in the morning if I wanted to.
Needless to say, I was too embarrassed to do that. I've been trying really hard not to cut myself, which is one of the usual ways to blow off the emotional steam kettle. If I'd let myself do that earlier in the day it might have helped, but by 23h00 I was way beyond the release of cutting - I would have ended up doing really visible and vicious cuts all over my forearms (mostly, I can keep it to my bicep, where it's not so visible). Not sure which is more humiliating, but at least calling her needs less explanation than the blade marks do.
And in spite of having had almost 12 hours of sleep before I finally managed to wake up, I am feeling so empty and dead that I will probably be in bed by about 9 o clock.
Some days I can understand quite clearly why I hate myself. Cos I really am a total asshole.