The water under the Nicholette Island bridge looked too tempting tonight. I might try it tomorrow.
I haven’t dated since 2008, and I have no prospects. Even though my mental health has dictated all major decisions in my life in a negative way I still feel like I’m a good person. I still feel like I have something to give. Women don’t care though. I’m 5’5″ so they automatically deem me ‘unacceptable’, and I hate them for it.
The voices are back, and oh how I’ve missed them. It’s nice not being alone. My mind is racing, and I’m scared. I think I should go to the hospital.
I don’t want to kill myself yet; I just want to curl into a ball, and leave the world behind. Â I need more electroconvulsive therapy; Â thirty thousand more shocks won’t cure me I fear. Â I still owe six thousand dollars from the last round I received. Â The weight of the financial strain it placed upon me has so far lasted two years longer than fleating psychiatric relief it gave me. Â I don’t know what to do. Â The treatments worked when the medications didn’t, Â but I can’t afford the treatments. Â I don’t have very many options.
1. Write letter
2. Buy gun
3. Say goodbye to family
4. Kill self
I wish my thought weren’t so disorganized. I can’t think straight, and it is giving me a head ache. I can’t focus. I just want it all to be over with. I need to come up with a plan, but can’t concentrate enough to do so. I don’t have a lot of time left, but what I have is too much.
I’m thirty years old, and I’ve done nothing with my life. I have no job. I have no friends, and I’m failing in school again. I can’t take these cycles any longer. I do well for a couple years. I make friends, hold a job, and do well in school. Then the depression comes back. I push my friends away, lose my job, and fail in school. I’ve gotten help in the past, but that only left me tens of thousands of dollars in debt. I need ECT again, but I don’t have insurance or any […]