Just want everything to end

Dying is a lot harder then I thought it would be.  I’ve had a very rough time the last few years.  In the past year I’ve been in and out of mental hospitals after multiple attempts.  I’ve made a lot of bad decisions when it comes to pills and alcohol because I didn’t care what happened.  

I’ve slept for 36 hours straight after taking multiple handfuls of very high dosages of Xanax and Seroquel combined with alcohol (basically completely missing out on the weekend and waking up in time to realize it was almost Monday already after taking the pills on Friday). Talk about your all-time backfires: Life sucked and now I didn’t even get the weekend to attempt to recover.  

I used to party with my friends and brag that I was the “real mother fucking Heath Ledger.” I tried to go to the kitchen one night to get a drink in the middle of the night after a night of lots of pills and alcohol.  I ended up in the bathroom, super confused and unable to figure out where I was.  I couldn’t even find the lightswitch.  I ended up tripping over the litter box, falling, and slamming the back of my head on the faucet in the bathtub (bending it severely).  I ended up stuck like that for a while, laying in a pile of cat shit and piss and unable to get up.  I screamed for help for a while but when none came I realized my roommate was gone on a trip for work.

I once took a bunch of pills, and drank before I had a girl over that I didn’t really know well.  I got a phone call and got up off the couch to go to the kitchen and get some privacy.  I woke up 3 hours later laying on the floor next to the fridge and no clue as to what happened.  She was gone.  I had blacked out again. I’m grateful she just left me there to die but unfortunately I didn’t die.  She was upset.  She got a laugh from it eventually.  I guess I told her I was going to get a bowl of cereal, then just went and passed out on the floor.

I’ve tried to incorporate a bag over my head after ingesting pills and alcohol.  Sometimes I’d wake up more than 24 hours later.  One time my girlfriend at the time discovered me and I was completely incoherent and she brought me to the emergency room.

Another time I tried with a bag, I was found by the drummer of my band, and my girlfriend.  They knew I was down but didn’t expect to walk into my apartment and find 40 cans of opened soft food for my cats on the floor outside of my bedroom door with a sign on it that said “Please Don’t Enter.  Call The Police.  Please take care of my cats.  They are all I have.  They are my babies.  I’ve never asked for much and this is all that I ask.” My ex gf (gf at the time) ripped the bag off of my head and the next thing I knew there were police and paramedics everywhere.

This is just a small sample of what my life has been like for the last few years.  I’ve wanted to die since I was 13 (31 now).  They always told me things would get better.  That was a lie.  It was more like I would persevere to want to die another day.

My biggest addictions were to the pills being prescribed to me by my psychiatrist.  Every day I took an obscene amount of Adderall, Xanax, Seroquel, Ambien, Trazodone, etc…  The max dose listed I considered the minimum dose and if it was supposed to be taken throughout the day, I normally took it all at once. I’d end up running out before the end of the month as a result. I’m sure if you’ve been there before you know what it’s like to be counting down the days until you can get your fix again.  I’ve been on pretty much every anti depressant, anti anxiety, ADHD, and sleep medication that there is. Since nothing ever really made things better, I’d get my doctor to increase dosages and/or add another medication.

Getting “used” to taking obscene amounts of Seroquel can be very weird and scary.  If you’ve never taken it before, you basically just feel insanely tired and really shitty.  But you are often unable to go to sleep anyway.  It’s a wild ride.  It was never any fun, but for some reason was an addicting experience for me anyway.  The thought of possibly being able to go to sleep and not wake up for 20 hours or more was just an incredible escape.

I started using more and more cannabis eventually.  Cannabis actually helped and was the first thing that really made me feel a bit better.  I love edibles, but nothing beats the immediate high from smoking.  Plus, I live in a state where prohibition is still the name of the game. I now smoke probably 3 or 4 times a day with my current girlfriend on average.  I’d smoke more if i could afford it.  Right now I’m honestly terrified I’m going to run out and not be able to afford more for a while due to Christmas.  I’m not addicted to cannabis in any way.  I was incredibly addicted to all of the prescribed pills though.

It got to the point where if I didn’t take pills, I couldn’t sleep.  I would go days without sleeping.  It was horrible.  I was exhausted and I couldn’t sleep a wink.  I started getting really bad stomach problems.  Some pills definitely have the ability to break your dick.  It was impossible to orgasm at times.  When it would cooperate, I could have sex for as long as I wanted.  I felt a little bit like a god.  The appeal wears off though when you don’t get to come no matter how hard you try.  My new gf didn’t like my pill habit at all.  I loved her and I still do.  Because of this, I decided to go cold turkey.  I haven’t had any of those pills in 3 months.  The physical withdrawals that I went through were horrible.  It was a terrible experience.

I’m now clean.  I smoke weed which is more helpful than any of the pills ever were, and the worst side effect is I end up eating a lot of food.  I end up eating more than I thought was possible sometimes.  So weight gain has been an issue, but that was also an issue with a lot of my pills.  At least there’s no physical addiction anymore.  I can get good natural sleep, and my dick works again.  (Not being able to even masturbate is quite the mind fuck).

I’m doing better than I have been in years.

But I still want to die.  Even on my best days, I still think about how i want to kill myself.

And I also miss the pills often.  I have some hidden here at my gfs apartment that she doesn’t know about that I think about taking.  I can’t bring myself to get rid of them.  I don’t know what is fucking wrong with me.

I don’t deserve any of the people that I have in my life.  All I do is bring everybody down.  Everyone says that isn’t true, but I don’t buy it.  I don’t get at all why my girlfriend is with me.  I’m such a fucking loser.

Depression, panic attacks, I crave the sight of my own blood.

I don’t think it’s ever going to go away.  I really have no hope that it will.  I haven’t had hope in a long time.  It feels like everything around me is slowly starting to fall apart.  I feel inadequate in my relationship, with my friends (whom I haven’t really seen much of in months), and my family.

I’ve had about 20 sessions of ECT (shock therapy). It seemed to work at first but pretty soon it really only worked if I had it done that same day. ECT is really not to be taken lightly and doing it everyday just wouldn’t be worth it. Eventually it didn’t seem to work at all.

Even though I love being with my girlfriend, I LOVE alone time.  I crave it.  Friends try to hang out with me but I can’t really muster up the will to leave my room most of the time, much less the apartment.

I really wish I could just die.  I fantasize about getting some helium tanks and making a hood.  I’ve gone to stores with a checklist and found all of the items I would need to hopefully pull it off.  I fantasize about purchasing my first firearm with the sole purpose to be to shoot myself and just get it all over with.  I think about ways to die all of the time.

I wish I would just die already.  Thanksgiving is today and that just makes everything that much worse.  I have no fucking clue on how I’m going to survive Christmas.  I feel like I’m going to start hyperventilating just thinking about it.  Christmas is easily my least favorite time of the year, and it’s my girlfriend’s favorite.  I really hope this isn’t a recipe for disaster.  I would never hurt anyone but myself.

I just want it all to end.  If that makes me selfish, I don’t care anymore.  I’m sick of suffering.

I don’t know how I’m still here after everything I’ve done and tried over the years.

One thing I’ve learned for sure, is for some unlucky people, dying can be really hard.  I’m one of those people.

Thanks for reading.