In my teens, I was diagnosed with bipolar paranoid schizophrenia. I’m currently 26, without insurance, and no way to afford therapy or medication.
I’ve attempted suicide twice before, first by ingesting a large number of different pills (blood thinners, sleeping pills, basically everything in the cabinet) and the second by ingesting rat poison. I continue to practice self-harm, mostly by tearing at my arms with my nails, or beating myself in the head, for the sake of not hurting someone else because the fact is I want to. I’m angry at everyone all the time, and it has only gotten worse in recent months since my father passed away. He was the only one who really tried to understand what it’s like to pretend like I’m normal when my brain is constantly playing tricks on me. I’m not close to my mother, and I don’t see my brother or sister often. Whenever we make plans, they bail at the last minute, or just never call at all. Cliche as it sounds, I feel like I have nothing and no one to go to. I drink to try and dull the edges of reality, but then I just wake up angry and hungover.
More and more I wonder if that woman ever even wrote out an official diagnosis. She was on her way out, retiring, and handing me over to her protege when she gave me her “professional opinion.” The new woman I only saw 2-3 times before I stopped going. And if there is no documentation of it, who says I can’t buy myself a new gun? I have no criminal record, not even a damn speeding ticket. I know the best place to do it, and it’s my favourite time of year. Really, it’s all so very perfect.
1 comment
You have my condolences for the loss of your father – I lost my ol’ man eight years ago and it never gets easier, yet I’ll continue to live with that prominent feature missing in my life. My dad was a simple yet humble fella who never said much and lived only in service to those who he loved. I think it’s great that your dad acknowledged that not everything was okay with you, but you were still doing your best to carry on anyway. I think that’s all any of us would ever want from other people.
I used to beat my head around quite a lot when I’d feel the anger and frustration take over me – I remember bashing my head into the steering wheel of my car till I drew blood, and walking back inside like nothing was wrong. Now though, I like the ability to destroy myself further since the universe is already doing that for me. I’ve also kicked the drink for a while now. Of course it’s hard, but anyone can abstain, given an ample opportunity to pursue a favourable alternative/distraction.
I won’t speak of therapists since I despise them but I had a quick question – which sort of firearm were you in the market for? In any event…I bid you a fair day.