The deep and uncontrollable need for that pure dark silence…Â The blissfull absence of all senses…Â I want it, but I know I am not allowed…
On a good day, the suicidal thoughts used to roam my mind on and off through out the day. At night, while in bed, no matter what I did, my mind would wander to the topic. The medication has helped…a lot, but now, with the weather being so unpredictable with rain coming and going and the humidity, my body is contributing to the reasons “why not” and is pushing past the barrier so carefully constructed by the various pills I swallow on a daily basis. The constant dull ache of my joints has me shifting and fidgeting to find a sitting position that’s comfortable, the constant stinging burning pain in my wrist is driving me to knaw off my own hand, and all the while the thoughts of “what is the point, why am I doing this pet project if no one is going to use it.”
I hate my mind and the various ways that it can break down what I am doing to nothingness. I would start out excited and full of energy and over time it slowly dwindles down to a low agonising self hatred. The one moment I feel pride in what I do…the next, all I can see is how worthless and useless it is. That’s what I hate the most…the thing that sparks the vision of me plunging a dagger deep into my chest…a feeling of urgency to escape who I am…where I am…what I am…
There is more than one cause of my depression and often I can’t tell one from the other…but right now, they are all conspiring together, against me…