What do you do when you think you're standing at the precipice of a long, narrow valley named "breakdown"?

I am tired of caring. I am tired of things being vital. So tired, I think, that my mind shut them all out; and now they are no longer vital. Now I don't have to worry about things. I don't have to care if I study properly for this test, or complete that assignment, because they don't matter to me. I don't have to care if I do really well at work on any given day, because I don't care whether people get mad at me or even if I get fired. I just don't fucking care about any of it.

As long as I can self-destruct, I think, I will always survive. Because nothing else matters, so I don't have to be ridiculously anxious about it, or completely broken up if it doesn't work out... which means I can focus on what my mind really wants to focus on in the first place, which is destroying myself. I don't really understand why my brain desires self-destruction so much, but it does -- and resisting the urges, and dealing with the feelings that brings up, on top of all the other stressors and depressors and irritations and anger-provoking things in my life, is just too fucking much. So I self-destruct, and I coast through life without having to deal. Without having to feel all these things which cause my moods to fluctuate so wildly and unpredictably, and which consequently cause me to feel insane.

Plus... I am alone, and not cared about by anyone. And a girl who isn't loved doesn't deserve to be nice to herself, or gentle or compassionate towards herself. No; a girl who is not loved, whom nobody even wants to be intimate with, deserves nothing less than self-destruction -- deserves nothing less than pain and dizziness and mental disorientation and dissociation. Because when a girl is not loved, doing harmful things to herself is the only way she can get by. Anything less just hurts too fucking much to handle. Self-destruction really is less painful than the things that lie beneath.