Last year I was hospitalized and then I went to a residential treatment facility to be treated for an extreme depressive episode. I remember self-admitting to the behavioral health unit. I was so out of place. I had never had an experience like that. I’ve never used drugs, and in my group therapy sessions I saw first hand how much pain addiction caused.
It’s been a year since I was released. I’ve visited with a therapist, and I’m still seeing my psychiatrist.
After all of this, my thoughts of suicide are creeping back in. I read a story about two teenage girls who killed themselves, and one girl stepped in front of a train. I’m also surfing the Internet about suicide stories. Thoughts of my own death are playing out in my head–as if I’m watching a scene from a movie loop again and again repeating itself. Wasn’t there a movie, “Groundhog Day,” where the character relives a day again and again.
I’m tired of living like this. I’m becoming more and more introspective, and I’m isolating from my family.
After a year, I’ve know I am a loser.