Hello there (potential trigger)

Once again, possible trigger.

A few days. That's how long it's been. Before that, a couple weeks. Before that, it had been months.
Im slipping. I had brought myself back from my suicidal tendencies, my harmful doings, and I managed to get out of the hole I had been in for two years. I wasn't ever really out all the way because I had mini-relapses. Maybe one every month. Then every two weeks. Then soon enough I was depressed again. I don't understand why. I don't know how. It's been good. Great actually.
I managed to land myself in a polyamorous relationship and my girlfriend (theyfriend?) and my boyfriend are super supportive and really nice. I enjoy when I'm with them but I'm so drained lately. Like happy is hard now. I get these points where I am surprised by these episodes in which I get super energetic and hyper, so much so I don't sleep until late (4 am) and only get 4-6 hours of sleep. I go out and see the world! I go exploring and ride my bike with such zeal and speed that I'm sore for days.
And yet I still have points where at night I go into my bathroom and have one goal: get the glass.

The glass.

I have razors so why do I prefer glass? Maybe it's the sound. The sound when I have to shatter jars or split a too large piece. I can take apart my razors with my fingers in less than 2 minutes and have no damage.

The damage....

I don't do it in obvious places. I cant. I don't want to raise alarm in anyone. So I create something I call asas de sangue, wings of blood. Along my shoulder blades, down my back. Maybe across my chest if im feeling especially destructive. My ankles. My upper thighs. Easy places to hide that wouldn't be seen.

Why?

I can't find reasons. It's irrational to be so depressed. Maybe I'm mistaking it for something else maybe maybe I'm just making things up. Maybe im just being stupid about this whole thing and I'm just self distructive.

Then why is it that the demon in my head, a personified version of my depression created not by illness but for purposes like these to show my depressive state through the words of her, keeps whispering to me that I'm just a burden? I could disappear tomorrow and nobody would care nobody even knows me aside from my partners and 2 other friends and obviously my family.
I try to reach out to people but eventually I let them drop.

I was doing well.

so why is it becoming so hard to keep eating? To keep myself out of my medicine cabinet to reach into the little box labelled Midol, in which not meds but glass, is kept? Acetaminophen isnt that hard to OD with.

I keep myself out.

I talk to them instead.

it's been 3 days and my palms are cut up, but the cuts are so thin it's hard to see. So deep that when I move it around it is painful.

I don't feel so much of the pain. Pain isn't even the same now.

I pick at scabs, simply to bleed.

Ive fallen again.

and I can't figure out why.