I wrote a suicide note once. Only time I ever did. I wrote it right before what I guess you could call my first real attempt. It was only three words long.
Hi all. It’s been a while since I’ve posted here. I guess last time was around the time I started sleeping with my best friend/housemate. We’re still together, and I think my life is doing okay.
Last night though, she was pretty stressed and she told me she thinks I’m an emotionless psychopath. I wiped the tears from and told her I’m not a psychopath. I hugged her till she stopped crying, rubbing her back. I know she had a stressful day and she is a lot more emotional than me, so maybe I shouldn’t read so much into it.
The thing is, it made me doubt myself. I know I have feelings sometimes (otherwise I wouldn’t even have signed up to this site) but watching her cry, I felt nothing; no empathy, no pain. I’ve often joked about being a sociopath, but maybe I really don’t care. That said, I’d never treat anyone I love the way my mother treated me, so I have to behave as though I care about her feelings, and make her happy, just as I would if those feelings were real.
I think I love her. I’m not really sure how love is supposed to feel, but I don’t want to hurt her. I think I want to build a family with her. We are interested in a lot of the same things. That’s probably what love feels like.
Hi guys. It’s been a while since I was last here.
It’s 8:16pm and I’ve been at work for over 13 hours. My concentration is fizzing. I’m trying to get these drafts out before tomorrow, but I’m fighting the familiar thoughts again.
I feel like I have so much to tell everyone about what happened in the time I was gone from this forum, but I don’t have the energy right now.
I’m contemplating leaving now and coming back early tomorrow to finish this off before work starts. I’m not being very productive anyway.
At the same time, I find myself thinking “If I’m going to do this, why should I even care if I finish this job or not?”, but I put my survival chances for this week at 95%; up 10% from last week.
I did try to tape a plastic bag over my head at some point last week, but didn’t follow through.
Fuck it. I’m done here. I’m going home. My mind just won’t work. Guess I’ll be getting up at 5:30 tomorrow.
I was thinking earlier today that over the past year, I’ve subconsciously put myself in the best possible position in life, but now I hate myself for it.
You just got out of a mental hospital a month ago and you see someone you met inside walking down the street with someone else. You really want to say ‘hi’ to her, but then the thought occurs to you that maybe the person she’s walking with doesn’t know she was in a mental hospital. Maybe he/she is like, a work colleague or something.
What would you say if she tries to introduce you to her friend? Would you make something up like “uh, yeah, we met in… um…” (come on, think, dammit, think!) “… church” (argh dammit why did I say that? I’m an atheist)
Do you just keep walking and hope you see her again. What if you never do? Maybe this is your only chance to make contact.
You never got her number while inside, and why would you? It’s full of crazy people. Then again, she seemed really nice and she laughed when you said “So… do you come here often?”
Maybe that’s when you have the brilliant idea. You’ll ‘accidentally’ run in front of a car and then when she comes to help you, you can pretend we’re meeting for the first time and get her number.
So that’s what you do, but she doesn’t want anything to do with you, because you’re some sort of crazy weirdo who jumps in front of cars to get people’s attention. Then again, you did just get out of a mental hospital. You’re probably going back there, now.
Not a true story, but jokes aside, what would you do? Am I overstating the social anxiety?
I’ve been trying to write a break-up letter to my mother for at least a week now. The week before, I waited to make sure I was making the right choice and was not acting uncharacteristically emotional.
I want to write this letter, but I just can’t be bothered. It seems like too much effort. Maybe I need to write down the main points and then flesh it out. Don’t really know why I’m doing it though. I mean, if I’m never going to speak to her or any of her siblings again, do I really care what she thinks? Maybe I’m doing it so she won’t try to contact me again and will know that getting to me by using her family members is pointless.
Gotta do it eventually I guess. I’ll probably post it up here when its done.
I may never die. Someone else wearing my DNA, the telomeres shorter — a body built of different atoms; a different organism will die in my stead.
What are we from moment to the next? We are already gone; lost in time. An instant passed inexorably; an individual altered irreversibly; life exists only as a continuum of perpetual chaos.
You are an individual existing for just a moment with the previous moment’s memory.
and I just get by by pretending that I don’t. Not inwardly, I mean on the outside. A mask of sanity. I’m a apathetic misanthrope portraying the character of a normal lovable person in a perpetual improv act.
I’m polite and sweet. I listen to people. I laugh at their jokes. I’m considerate. My mind is dissecting them. I’m dead inside.
I’m just not there.
I’m not depressed any more. I haven’t been for almost a year, but I no longer feel complex emotions of any kind. Some would call this a mixed blessing. There is nothing mixed about it. If I had to choose, I would trade constant depression for constant emotionlessness in an instant.
Zopiclone is squirting into my brain. If they find a way to make the taste you find in your mouth at this point less horrible, it would be much appreciated.
My mind is starting to melt like candles, bright glittering, forming pools of liquid, yet a solid.
I was told these can make some people hallucinate if you try to resist the urge to sleep, but it didn’t work for me.
I didn’t mean to make this post so long, but typing the last few paragraphs has been incredibly hard and and glittering sparking birds fly through the sky, they feed off the weak. They explode into hundreds of piece and cover the whole world with blood and bone and flesh. Hearts, kidneys, intestines , livers splat onto the ground. The age of violence and death is over. The age of the technological singularity is upon us. From now, machines rule for the strong. Tangents blossoming. The possibilities, innumerable. The intelligence incalculable.
Flesh is the new weakness. The choice: immorality or death.
A burst of stardust
Dust forever more
I can’t wait for the apocalypse. Maybe it will be Ebola, or Russia vs. The West or North Korea will finally build its first working ICBM. Maybe all of these will happen at the same time.
Then all I need is enough sertraline to make sure I still feel nothing while I sit back and watch the world burn.
Up to day five of starving myself with a bread roll for breakfast and a couple vegetables for dinner. I’ve lost around 1kg per day since I started. I’m taking stimulants during the day to keep my metabolism up and appetite down. I take sedatives at night so the hunger pains don’t keep me awake. I don’t have the energy to exercise like I did before and I find myself struggling a little bit at work in spite of the stimulants, but I’m a third of the way there. Only a couple more weeks, I should be able to shed 10 kgs if I keep this up.
I don’t think this constitutes an eating disorder, but I’ve been trying to lose weight with little success for ages, so I decided to do the only thing guaranteed to work. If I don’t eat, I’m guaranteed to lose weight. Otherwise, I’d starve to death with fat on my body and whoever heard of that happening?
The idea is to keep going till I get back down to 70 or 65 kgs, then gradually build up my protein intake and start going to the gym again. With any luck, my weight will increase again, but with muscle and not fat. That’s the plan anyway.
What do you think about disclosing your depression in the workplace? Telling your boss or HR or someone you trust.
Is it a good idea?
What are your experiences?
I’m on 200mg of sertraline. What will happen if I take more? Will I be okay?
Boring post today. I can feel my mind melting away.
I dreamed about the apocalypse again. But at least I was in control.
I am weasel.
Nothing personal today, but I’ve been having strange dreams for years, even before I was on sedatives or antidepressants, and sometimes these things make them more vivid, but they’re always strange. I can’t remember them most of the time, but I remember flashes of things, like dizzying heights, zombies, the end of the world (actually pretty common for me), people getting mutilated, trying to solve a mystery or stop a crime.
Anyway, I wondered if anyone had any dreams or nightmares they would like to share. I’m wishing I could remember what I dreamed last night, but apart from a few snapshots, it’s gone.
It’s been a while since I came on here before yesterday, and my taste has changed and I can feel the zopiclone entering my brain right this moment so odds are I won’t be able to spell check. I was just looking for him. We never spoke much but I saw him around helping people and saying profound things and I really respected him and admired his impac
t. Is he still going? Is he alive? Umm.. wow, this stuff is more powerful than I remember. Shame I don’t get hallucinations. Anyway has anyone seen him? I miss him.
Dawg, if you’re reading this. We need you. Numbers of the collective. Has anyone seen him? Or got a link to a precious pesos of his so I can indulge myself in his history with all its profound and meaningful stuff. Previous post, not whatever I said about pesos. My mind is struggling with this stuff I poi on it after I brushed my teeth. If of read this tomorrow, I’ll be surprised if left a comment. Which is shame because I really hope dawg comes back .
I’m starting to dream in myhead. Might s well dictate;
A forest. But it flies. Great treehouses unfurl from them. In the middle a wood fire burn. She’s very far away. But I caught the beast. It takes flight sand takes Mre to her. The black mammal slights on the porch and shakes itself. She
The lady turns to me and she asks me what in writing. She’s important like the president or something. So Mau people me to her. Dweeb second Secretary tried to make a pass on her last time she was here. The story broke like wildfire because he really was a dick to everyone. She wants to play a game. The metro floods and octopi attack everyone everyone must get to a save point and climb though portal no next area and removing funny fury balls around the place let you block people from portals. I’m in a bathroom. It’s huge, like a warehouse. I don’t remember how I got here. There are grimy tiles everywhere. I realise this moment. The moment the woman told me about is death the world ends now. Except it didn’t end. I cling out through a window there’s nothing but a road that stretches into the desert horizon next top a power line
The husband ad wide looked out of place, the aliens know us. Just add I thin n this fire trains from the sky. Somewhere, a giant screen flickers on and the image of a man with a wide brimmed hat that cats a dark shadow concealing his eyes revealing only his short trimmed mustang. The screen flickers. Fighting static. He says “the rains bring death” before the signal is gone. Then I realise it’s not fire, but blood. Dark blood. Black blood the ichor zombies feed of. Probably won’t make any sense tomorrow n goodnight all
Haven’t slept in two days. Not depressed, just I get insomnia sometimes. I lie awake in bed with my eyes closed for several hours until my alarm goes off. So work was hard today. But I love my job. I thought about suicide for the first time in months today, but not with much conviction. I didn’t really want to die, not like before, but it just felt like it would be easier. I’ve stopped feeling depression (along with every other complex emotion) thanks to sertraline. It’s been such a long time since I felt happy our scared or angry or ashamed or sad. I like it this way. My emotions didn’t make any logical sense anyway. Anyhow, I still get visceral reactions to things. I really enjoy sex. I felt a rush of adrenaline shoplifting or hacking into the company server last week. I even considered using the RPC registry tweak I quietly applied to my boss’s computer to remotely shut it down just for fun. But I didn’t. I still got to think about my best interests. But it tickles me that I can do this stuff.
Life without debilitating depression is so different. I can motivate myself to do almost anything. And I realized that I’m incredibly intelligent. The stuff I do for work in my head is difficult for even the people working next to me to understand. It’s such a joke to me.
I’ve started going to the gym every day again. Not because I need it to be happy like before. Now I just want to look and feel stronger.
I enjoy cooking in my spare time. I’m always trying to impress other people with my skill and unusual or classy dishes.
I wonder if I’m developing narcissistic or sociopathic tendencies. I looked up “God complex” today and I realised I’m actually starting to feel that way. Not that it matters. I’m not desperate to end my life and I don’t owe compassion to anyone.
P.S this post is full of blatant lies. Â If part of this post bothers you, that part is a lie. The rest is all true.
I just decided that next time one of my subscribed charities calls me asking for more money, I’ll tell them that a recent discussion with my psychologist yielded some profound self-revalation. Actually, just one self-revalation. That I hate everyone. Yes, everyone. No, unfortunately, there are no exceptions. And I want everyone to suffer. And I’m terribly sorry, but my current donations are not conducive to the success of my new life’s work, so I’d like to cancel my current donations. Oh, you’re disappointed you won’t be able to end world hunger or free political prisoners? Well, you were wasting your time to begin with under the false assumption you had to care about other people. Yeah, you have a great day too. Try not to die, or anything.
I think when I decide I own enough equity to retire, I’ll probably start my own charity devoted purely to undermining the efforts of other charities. It’ll be called “Fuck the World” or something catchy like that. Because, let’s face it, why should we interfere with the predestiny of mankind’s self-annihilation. All of yourÂ problems, first-world or otherwise, are materially insignificant in light of the fact that were the earth obliterated, the difference in entropy within the cosmos would be negligible.
I’m feeling much less depressed these days. To be honest, I don’t feel much of anything. I’m on 200mg of sertraline.
I find that, although I make friends very easily, I form normal relationships, and people appear to enjoy spending time with me, beneath my friendly outer self, I loathe almost everybody I come into contact with. And I find that part of me even wants to watch people suffer. I feel as though while my motivation has increased of the past few months, I have also become more manipulative and unconcerned with the feelings of other people (though, to be honest, I’m not entirely sure I ever empathized to begin with). What does this mean? Is this part of the depression? Or is this indicative of some deeper emotional scarring or trust issues or something?