Please note: this story references suicide.
I was wearing a scarf earlier and I had to take it off because I started to hear the thoughts again,
It creeps in amongst the normal thoughts like 'I'd better go and do the dishes..Or you could kill yourself'.
I'd started to think I could maybe just hang myself with that scarf, I wondered how much it would hurt and what surface would hold my weight long enough for it to work properly.
Then I changed my trousers, put on my trainers, blasted some tunes and went on the treadmill and I fucking ran, and did some squats.
And I felt a million times better for it.
I did the dishes then I sat down and drank some water and I reminded myself not to let my thoughts swallow me.
'Go fuck yourself', my thoughts replied.
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