classify text {harassment, self-harm, religion insult, sexist, hate, racist, safe for work, psychiatric or mental illness, porn}, text `What it feels like on the good daysOverall today might have been a good day for me. I was productive, slightly social, and while there were some failures, they weren't so crushing as to make me think I've wasted another day.

Still, a few familiar triggers (reminder of not having a real job being the big one) reminded me of this state of mind. One I think people here can relate to. Even though it's a good day, and you feel better than usual, it's not quite happiness. It's a guarded sort of comfort that's fully aware that the bad thoughts can come back. That it's possible I could be set off by something slight and suddenly be looking for something to hurt myself with, even if it means clawing at myself or hitting myself until I'm numb and soon to be bruised.

More than anything I want the days before this to come back. I know I was never the happiest person, but I could still wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night. I could meet friends without feeling terrified I might say or do something to give myself away. I could go out and try to make more of my life than what it is. It doesn't feel so long ago that I can't remember what it was like not to be the way I am now. How it feels like every night I'm floating in this black inky water, slowly sinking into it.

This is the first time I've ever written about this, at least openly and honestly. The first time I came to this subreddit I had to leave my desk at my former job because I was moved to tears. In the hardest moments I felt a kinship of sorts, and in that sense it was a relief. I only wish I had the strength to put it all into writing when I'm at my lower points, though I fear dwelling on it may make it worse. Or perhaps not facing it makes it worse. I have no idea.

What I wanted to share though, and I thank anyone bothering to read this far down, is that I could patch together just a little hope by knowing in some weird way I'm not alone. And I want to say that in case anyone else might feel that way. It's strange that I feel so worthless and miserable all the time, but I like the idea of helping others. I would lie in the mud to help someone else cross over it, and hope that when they've crossed they might extend their hand to help me up too.

When it gets bad I'll try to reach out here before doing anything rash. I can't promise anything, though the greatest pain of all still feels far enough for me to head back to where I once was. I only hope that it's possible for me.`, return in JSON {'kelas'}
{"kelas": "self-harm"}