My success

I’ve read posts on here for a while, but this is the first time I’ve shared here. And since this site is about success stories, here is mine.

I used to think about killing myself. I thought long and elaborately. How would I do it? would it hurt? Should I stick the gun in my mouth or to my temple? Could I pull the trigger of a shotgun with the barrel in my mouth? I thought about it fairly regularly. Daily, at least. And anytime I heard news about the world. Seems like news is always negative and or depressing, but that’s tangental to my story. Or thought about my future.
I distracted myself with projects. tasks. Here make this thing. Don’t die until you finish it. I’d write them down. I had a list of things to do before I died. The list grew. Soon its size was discouraging. So many things to do. How can I possibly do them all?
I had no energy to spend working on them, so I’d come home from work and lose myself in games. But that, too, was a letdown. I was just consuming someone else’s work. I could create. I had ideas. The list of things I could build. Things I wanted to build, and they weren’t getting done. But I had no energy for them. I woke up tired. I was tired all day. Working out, more sleep, nothing seemed to help.
I’d sought treatment, but sessions were so expensive, and financial worries were another thing that made me feel down, so I stopped going. The medication they had me try also caused some unpleasant episodes. And I couldn’t afford it either.
So I distracted myself. I kept my head down and my hands busy. Kept myself away from things that would let me die. And it worked, I guess. But I still had the thoughts.

Then I heard of a drug. I won’t say it’s name. For the purposes here, I’ll call it ‘D’. It’s approved by the FDA and safe, but only available by prescription. I was very hesitant to try any drug bought illicitly, having heard horror stories of mandatory sentancing and other nonsense from the authorities. But then I did a little looking. Turns out this particular drug has never been the reason for charges. It’s only appearance in court filings is when someone was caught with lots of illegal firearms and other drugs, and they found some of this. So I found a website, scrounged up some bitcoin, and ordered a sample.

I was so nervous when it came. I heard the postman knock and checked the blinds looking for the fuzz. But nothing. The postman wasn’t even still there. He dropped my parcel and left, business as usual. The advise on the subject was to try half a pill at first to make sure it wasn’t overwhelming. But i prefer to live dangerously. I’ve chugged three red bulls in the space of five minutes and it didn’t kill me. I could handle one of these. I tried a pill the next day.

I felt alive, for the first time that I could remember. The world had gone from shades of gray to colors, like in the wizard of oz. I didn’t want to lay around being useless. I tackled item after item on my todo list. Instead of being this towering monolith of things I’ll never get done, the list is a catalogue of my triumphs. I view down the mountain I’m climbing.
the persistent weariness, the exhaustion that came with drawing every breath was gone. I still get tired after a long day of work, or after a hard workout, but I’m not waking up with that fatigue hanging over me like a raincloud.

I was almost like being the star of the movie ‘limitless’. I had unlocked my mind. I’m sure it didn’t make me smarter, and for all I know it’s all just the placebo effect while I’m taking sugar pills. But I haven’t felt the desire to die. I haven’t had those thoughts. Hunger doesn’t make me sad. Thinking of the future doesn’t fill me with dread. News is still terrible, but it doesn’t seem to bother me anymore.

I take one every day now, and my outlook on life is positive. I’ve forgotten to take it a few times, and found the bad thoughts trying to sneak in. But now I carry a spare one on me in case I forget in the morning before work. Absent mindedness seems to be a side effect, though that could be from doing so much more, rather than the drug. It’s easy to keep track of one or two irons in the fire. But now I have a dozen or more, so that’s a reasonable explanation for losing track.

I’ll never go back to living my life the way I did before. It wasn’t living. It was just existing. Barely, begrudgingly, surviving.

In short. I found a kind of medicine that makes me not want to kill myself. I’m happy in a way that I haven’t been in a long time.