...is when I never have to wake

More than eight hours of deep, drugged,predominantly dreamless sleep. Thank you, bright pink pills. I noticed my hands were shaking preparing my breakfast; that could be a good sign, that my body is back to knowing it needs food. With consciousness, though, comes a return to everything, the messed up jumble that is in my head and my life. Pain is rolling in like fog, slow and inexorable. At least it's a change from sudden explosions and piercing stabbing. I don't know how to be gentle with myself (or really, with others either). It feels like none of my tools are sufficient to the tasks before me.

in case it wasn't apparent

The flirting with self destruction is indefinitely on hold. The needs beneath that are being quite addressed through other avenues.