my pathetic, lonely life. thus far.

This one’s pretty long, sorry if I bore anyone. I should preface by saying that I’ve been depressed for four years. I was formally diagnosed with major depressive disorder January of this year, but I knew long before. I’ve never had a true friend, anything even close to a relationship (been led on a few dozen times), and I feel alone constantly. Recently my diagnosis was changed to suggest the cause of my pain is ADD. I’m not sure if the doctors are right, but amphetamines are helping a bit lately. This is the story of the last eight months or so, from the first time I attempted suicide.

The first time I tried (I took a massive overdose), I felt like a failure. I was expecting to go to sleep (pass out, really) and never wake up. That wasn’t the case. Instead my liver decided it was going to weather the storm and just make me sick for a few days. I didn’t even tell anybody what I’d done, I was scared they’d put me in the hospital “for my own safety”.

A few weeks later I decided to try again. Same plan, stupidly, I took an even larger overdose of the same drug. Again it didn’t kill me, somehow. I still wish it had. That time I told my parents and they took me to the ER (at like 2am) where I waited behind kids sick with the flu and other obviously low-risk illnesses (I shit you not, three kids with nothing but a cold, I heard their parents at reception) came and left before I was even called into a waiting room. From there I waited another hour, scared and alone because my parents were asked to stay outside to finally be greeted by a fucking nurse with a HADS evaluation booklet. I firmly expressed that I was having suicidal thoughts, she noted it, and came back about 20min later, I was being asked to leave. Like I didn’t even matter. I figured if the people getting paid to care, didn’t, then my life really was as worthless as it felt

Fast forward five months, five agonizing months where I lost my job, slipped further into my old alcoholic routine (drink from sun up to sun down three or four days out of the week), started cutting, lost (or rather drove away) all my friends and considered myself totally written off. I’d started taking an anti anxiety med, lorazepam, which had the wonderful side effect of making me slip in to episodes of rage and psychosis when coupled with my antidepressant. I’d been able to control it for a few weeks, taking the aggression out on pillows, walls, myself… but it eventually became too much and my anger was directed towards my parents. My mom got scared and I was dragged, once again to that same ER by two wonderful lads in uniform to have my “medication adjusted”. Same story, waited for four hours then got sent home. Wound up having to get a taxi about an hour away because nobody was there to bring me home.

Two days later the thoughts came back. I just wanted to be calm and not angry anymore, I took an entire bottle of my lorazepam out of frustration, confusion and ignorance, which did exactly what I didn’t want, it made me angrier. 15mg of a potent sedative made me ANGRIER. I went out to yell my parents some more, no cops this time, I just broke my hand then broke down crying to them. The following morning I went back to the hospital where I was admitted. They kept me overnight then the following morning I was told I was being taken off my antidepressant (a powerful SNRI) with nothing to help the withdrawal. After being awake for three days straight I decided to leave. (You can do that here if you’re in voluntarily and not considered a risk to your own health or the safety of others). After getting home I replaced my antidepressant with Vyvanse (think Ritalin for adults) which seemed to work like a charm. Until the night, when it wore off and made me worse than ever before.

Here I am, two weeks later, at 5am and suicidal as hell, crying my eyes out writing this because I know nobody cares, and I’ve made up my mind. I’m planning to do it Saturday night when nobody will be home. No meds this time, just a rope around my neck. Maybe they’ll find me quick enough to reuse an organ or two, but I doubt it.

Anyways. Just thought I’d share my story, so at least there will be some sort of record to how fucking horrible this past year has been.