I spent the majority of my day staring down my new, full bottle of medication contemplating on whether to just do it. I have roughly 7 and a half bottles of my antidepressants hidden from when I never took them, and this new one make 8 and a half.
I forgot I had them all, but I was clearing out my room this morning when I came across them stashed all around the room. I’m not sure if there’s more, but this is all I found so far. The temptation to take them all is almost overwhelming.
Suicide has been at the forefront of my mind for the past several months, but I’ve tried my best not to act on it. I have a different occasions, but obviously I’ve failed them. I’m supposed to see my therapist on Friday at 9AM, but my mum wants to cancel it because of how early it is. I’ll probably get a taxi there by myself instead.
I want to tell her how bad I am, but at the same time I don’t. I’m too afraid to tell her what’s going on because I don’t know what will happen. If I tell her I’ll probably overdose in the next few days, she’ll call my mum. If I tell her I’ll most likely badly self harm soon, she’ll tell my mum. If I say Bree is telling me to go to Scotland because there are people there who will protect me from the government, she’ll tell my mum.
Nothing I say is taken serious enough, and all they do is tell my family. And my family don’t help. I’m afraid of reaching out to them and being serious with how bad I am, and then them just brushing it off like its no big deal. I’ve told them in multiple occasions that I literally don’t know what to do anymore and that I can’t cope with the voices or Bree or anything, and they haven’t done anything. They don’t think it’s too serious.
I’ve broken down too many times to count just this weekend. I’m getting so aggressive towards everyone. I’m angry all the time and I just get so violent. I don’t know what else to do anymore, and I’m sick and tired of trying to just deal with it. I can’t deal with it all anymore. It’s too much for me to handle now.