What Gives This Mess Some Grace Unless It's Fictions

Current Song: "Street Spirit (Fade Out)" -- Radiohead

I'm in a thing where I don't want to stop listening to this song.

Everything about my apartment makes me want to move out right now. I know I complain about this a lot, but it's pretty serious.

I was discussing my past complete freakout with my loving best friend earlier and I realized a) that I was as crazy as you can get and that's why I don't tell people that story that weren't there; and b) I am genuinely afraid of getting that far gone again. And I don't think it can necessarily be stopped in its tracks, either, because the problem last time was that everybody knew something about how bad it was but nobody coordinated. So, for instance, when I stopped eating entirely because I thought everything was poisoned, every single person I knew assumed that I was getting food elsewhere, even though if they had talked to each other they would have discovered that, no, I was living on Pepsi and cigarettes. The thing is that now if I go off the deep end again, there's no one to coordinate with. My problem before was that I saw too many people, now it's that there's not enough.

I'm starting school again next week and I'm truly afraid that my mind is going to break. You have no idea, no idea how bad it can get.

Oh my God, please don't turn your back on me.