Devolution

After so many months, to just regress feels like such a strange thing. Not alien, just... funny. To happen, so suddenly, like clicking. Flicking a switch. Just like that. Slipping down a notch. Something so familiar, so natural, so expected, a the same old hand sliding into the same old glove.
And why not?
It just seems like the order of things. A fact, a universal, immutable law.
The sky is blue, the grass is green, Shannyn is suicidal.
I can, at least, thank my lucky stars I had a comparatively brief reprieve. Those months, from the 21st of May to the 5th of October, I did not think about killing myself. It was not my first thought waking up, nor my last thought alone at night. It did not nibble at the edges of my consciousness, tempting, tantalisingly close. The idea of escape, of freedom, of silence and nothingness did not linger like smoke in the corner of my eye. The dream of being truly alone was not a dappled fleck of sunlight darting through leaves, through shadows. I tucked all my elaborate escape plans, to dive off the prison island and swim for land, inside a place deep inside myself.
I closed a door inside myself that day.
For 137 days I did not want to kill myself.
It was a good run, right? That's something, isn't it?
It was bound to happen eventually.