whiskered-fish

I’m considering telling my mother about the shit that’s been going on in my head recently.

Honestly, it’s probably not a good idea, and the consequences that could result are all absolutely terrifying. But I need to do something, and I see no other options. Every road is a bad one; I just gotta pick the least bad one.

Wish me luck, my fellow ideators. Or pray for me. Or do whatever it is you do, please. I’m going to need it.

Someone/Something is stilling my hand.

Someone/Something is pouring a fog into my head.

Someone/Something is strapping a muzzle around my mouth.

Someone/Something is tying a blindfold over my eyes.

Someone/Something is stopping up my ears.

Someone/Something is packing lead into my bones.

It doesn’t want me to get help. And I can’t get help if the bridge between me and the outside world is burned up. It’s sealing me up in my own body, my own mind. It’s turning me into a living tomb.

The process hasn’t finished yet. But it will soon. I’ve already been stung.

The worst part is knowing that I’ll never get better. I will always, always, always be crazy. And knowing that, what other choice do I have but to despise myself?

“Don’t let your diagnosis define you.” I’ve heard that a lot from therapists. But it makes absolutely no sense to me. Your diagnosis is you. Or, more accurately, your brain is you. You are your brain. And if my brain is garbage, then guess what that makes me? Exactly.

My diagnosis does define me. I don’t have an illness, I am an illness.

I just wrote almost 300 words of a post draft before realizing that I sounded like a fucking idiot. So I’m gonna try again.

Long story short, there are new “voices” (NOTE: I’m not actually hearing voices; these are in my head). And they’re telling me to do something very, very bad, or else they’ll kill me.

My two options are either death and Hell, or death and Hell. Or death and death. Whichever, depending. I can’t win.

They won’t leave me alone. I keep begging but they won’t go away. They’re sadistic.

Why is this happening to me? I can see no way out, and […]

I think I’m on the verge of an extended psychotic break. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s real and what isn’t, and I don’t know how to stop this train.

This is a fact. You may not believe me, but it’s true. Nothing will get better for me. If I’m lucky, maybe it’ll all stay the same. But knowing my luck, things will only get worse and worse.

I’ve been thinking about ending it tonight but I can’t even explain why. I know in my head why I’m thinking about doing it, but I can’t put it into words.

If I do do it, I’ll have to use my knife, somehow. That won’t be fun.

It’s surreal. Almost like I’m dreaming. Like it’s not real.

The same program, every second of every minute of every hour of every day of every week of every month of every year for the rest of my life! 🙂

I don’t care about anything but food and sleep.

I can’t feel anything but anger and fear.

I can’t think, can’t focus.

I’ve lost all interest and motivation.

I’m a useless lower-animal with no future and very little interest in its continued survival.

I’ve said all this before. I’ve said it all a million times before but no matter how many times I say it, and no matter what I do, nothing changes.

If something doesn’t change soon, I’m gonna close the fucking book.

I’ve said it once before and I’ll probably say it a million times more.

People like me are a plague. We’re dangerous, unpredictable, and more trouble than we’re worth. We should all be rounded up and euthanized.

Maybe advocating for that kind of genocide makes me some kind of monster, but evidently, society already thinks I’m a monster. So I might as well live up to their expectations, right?

Tonight’s been a rough night. I hate myself so fucking much.

Celexa
Lexapro
Seroquel
Zoloft
Abilify
Lithium
Wellbutrin
Geodon
Cymbalta
Prozac
Pristiq (?)

I think my medication is making me worse. I’m not sure, though.
It’s stuff like this that makes not taking my medicine (because the voices in my head told me not to) seem like a completely sane thing to do. It never seems to help me.

D has been bothering me all day. I think he’s going to do something terrible to me soon. I’m filled with a very heavy dread that won’t leave me no matter what I do. I can’t help but feel like some kind of doom is right around the corner.

I think the worst part is knowing that I can […]