Every fucking time, whatever drug they give me, whatever treatment they try, everytime I find myself in a bar brainstorming methods. It never gets better.
The braindrugs are horseshit. The therapy isn’t effective. I want to keep trying, but I’m getting really tired of holding my breathe.
My life is the same and my thoughts are the same. Ever since this whole thing startedthe best I have come up with iks that I may have well just kept my fucking mouth shut. Through this whole thing I have watched countless people fall through the cracks, get turned onto the streets homeless and still unwell, some of them with out a friend in the world. If I told my shrink what was in my head i’d be inpatient in a heart beat, and eventually i’d wind up one of them. I am begining to have a hard time seeing the point, and I am too old for this shit.
I dunno. I’m safe I guess, I’m just sick of the bullshit.
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2 comments
yeah the meds are just a supplement to Action and non-destructive Creativity.
My therapist was trying to get me to be an inpatient. I argued that what were they even going to do? Do to my profession I have seen how that goes firsthand. The patient sits there for three or four days. There is nothing miraculous that happens. Finally the patient will say anything just to get the hell out. They are still depressed. They are still suicidal. There’s really very little the mental health professionals can do. I do believe they can help patients with psychotic disorders though.