…if it isn’t a momentary crisis? If it has been several years and nothing is better?
I’ve been hospitalized, drugged, expelled, and fired. I’ve been manic, psychotic, depressed, and angry. This was all in the past…I’ve been stable for well over a year now. And yet I think about dying everyday, so much that it doesn’t bother me anymore. The things that happened two years ago are still haunting me. It is not like post-traumatic stress disorder. It is nothing mental. It’s the situation that I’m in as a result of what has happened. No job, not in school, not much of anything going for me.
It isn’t that I’m depressed; I’ve been there, and this isn’t it. I have a very […]
Hey Everybody!
So…here I am again. Don’t really have anyone to talk to. Usually I don’t want anyone to talk to, but that makes it hard for those times when I need to talk to someone. I stopped seeing my therapist about six months ago; I lost my job and I just couldn’t afford it anymore. I see my psychiatrist about every month-and-a-half. He doesn’t say much. I take whatever he prescribes, and I think it helps a little. I don’t like him. I’m going to have to borrow money to pay for my next refill. I’ve got insurance but there’s a copay.
I need to make […]
The birds must think we’re all a bunch of idiots. We have this wonderful little planet all to ourselves, and we’ve divided it into little sections. We build walls and fences, and we draw lines in the sand. We build little cages around ourselves. We use all of our energy trying to keep Them out, and trying to keep Us in. It’s a waste of time. We waste much of our time trying to make temporal things eternal. We try to fight our own mortality by constructing things that we hope will last forever. But after we die, our creations turn to dust. Birds know […]
White pills come from light blue bottles–
Yellow pills from orange ones, but
I don’t care about the color
If the color doesn’t care about me.
Things like these, from laboratories
Claim they’ll make me want to live, but
I’m not going to Fool myself–yet–
When I know myself a smudge too well.
Never heard a useful word from
Anything that tries too hard, but
“Swallow this, and before you know it
All your sadness will turn to smoke!”
Jerk the leash; pretend it worked, a
Miracle of Science, but
Hate yourself a little more for
Reasons that you can’t tell anyone.
Now that I’m society’s Fool, you’ll
Hear me writing dreary verse, but
If you see my sad decay: there’s
Nobody there, and […]
I apologize in advance: this is going to be very unorganized.
I tried to kill myself a little over a year ago, but I was taken to the hospital. I dropped out of college. Around the beginning of the school year, I had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and I withdrew from school for a few months. The details are more complicated than that, but that’s not important right now. I got a job this past August, which I lost in January. Since then I’ve been moping around my parents’ house, pretending to look for a job or be interested in going back to school. Going […]
I don’t think I want to die. I don’t really want to live though. I’ve dug myself into a hole and I don’t see a way out. I dropped out of college twice, I lost my job, I tried to kill myself, I spent two weeks in the psych ward, I don’t have friends anymore. How am I supposed to bounce back from that? I’m starting from nothing and I don’t have the energy to do anything drastic enough to make my life better. I’m not even sure how I could do that.
Some people tell me to suck it up, stop feeling sorry for myself, […]
But I don’t think there’s a good way for me to go on living. I feel horrible all of the time. I’ve seen enough doctors, therapists, and social workers to populate a small country. I don’t see any future for me. I don’t even have any dreams to hang on to. I don’t have any friends either. I’ve spent two weeks in the hospital. It made things worse.
It is sad when happy people die; if only we could trade places so that they could go on living.
I’m young. I hate it when older people complain that my generation feels entitled to more than we deserve. […]
How can every life be precious when there are seven billion others?
At what point does self-esteem building become self-delusion?
When you set goals, are you setting yourself up for failure?
Are chronically depressed people ill, or realistic?
Do psychoactive drugs improve your life or just numb you to your pain?
If your friends and family don’t want you to kill yourself, why don’t they do anything to help?
1. They assume all situations are created equal.
2. They use flowery language to hide a lack of substance.
3. They attribute successes to hard work and failures to bad luck.
4. Fortune cookies work just as well, and taste much better.
5. People like to recommend them in lieu of actually doing anything helpful.
6. They assume that hard work always pays off.
7. They assume that believing in yourself always pays off.
8. They never specify what they mean by ‘believing in yourself’.
9. They cultivate false hope.
10. They only person they actually help is the author.
Let’s say you’re feeling like life is completely hopeless, and you just want to end it all. Some well-meaning person drops you off at the psych ward where you’re greeted with more pills, more doctors, and depressingly weak coffee (I’ve been there). There’s nothing terribly interesting to do, so you get bored. Maybe your new medications have terrible side effects. Maybe you get frustrated about being treated like a crazy person and you tell yourself, ‘I have sunk to a new low; I’m screwed’. You notice how odd it is that a facility designed to treat severely depressed people is so depressing.
Occasionally the doctors ask […]
I was an honors student in high school, and I graduated in the top 2% of my class in June, 2010. I always hated school, but I thought college would be much better. I was accepted to several prestigious colleges, with large scholarships. I had been feeling depressed, but not suicidal. When I got to college, I had a really good time for a few weeks. I finally got to connect with other gay people. Then I had a string of panic attacks, and began planning to kill myself. Luckily, someone notified a therapist on campus, and I returned home on her suggestion. I started […]