Trying to Set in an Extinction Therapy – but the Cause is acting like it is an attempt to Score on it
Had it been 3 Days since? The Reason of my Traumata which drained the Happiness, the Hope and the Future in every agreeable Type I had left before the Person decided to repeatedly hit into my Life and disappear did contacted me again, now after a Year ago when the Cause of this Suicidal to the Grave State occured due the appearance of the Person.
The Person relieved me from the Amnesia but forgot to accompany an such crucial and critical Phase of Healing. The Person intended to Help me, and I gave all I got into it. I understand when the Person eventually did not planned to do, or did planned to do it in the mindless Way it choosed to go on to me. I accept that I did wrong trusting, I did wrong believing, hoping, accepting and loving, getting left and been drench in Pain and Sucidal Acts of an whole different Level than I used to. I lost 10.000€ just trying to get over it without making it. A lot of things happened that I can not tell this Person just swiftly as it could be. I can not Love, I can not hate. I am planning an Extinction Therapy to disregard from Suicide Assistance, to disregard an Court Filing against this Person. The Person is working in the Health Sector which makes it even more brutal what happened there.
Hit and Disappear. Each Time the Person does, I could hang myself on a Rope. Everytime this happens, I am guiding myself to suppress myself with Morphine. This can not go on like this Forever.
I get no dignity, no relief without having to expect more of harm for me. I get no healing, I get no compensation. I can not flee towards other People. I have nobody to talk about it at all. I can not desire to want to put my losses on to this Person as I can not Imagine as Life anymore honestly, and am still trying to make the Person atleast Free from the Deadly Incidents that had been caused by the Person. I could need that all, but I am unable to make Life out of it. After the Extinction Therapy, it is still unclear if I could Life on without the need of Suicide Assistance. The World feels Empty, and all I got is the Perpetrator which is forgetting Dignity, Patience and Seriousity, and I got to Accept it kindly as it does not need to know the Meassurements waiting for me to really making it or making it not. I am exhausted.
I am already out of Solutions. Even my attempts failed. Got over Drugs, yeah I made that for now but I need Help. I can not go to Psychic Ward due COVID, I can not go there because I would lack Sport. Beautiful Human, but I can not feel them, even when they try hard. I could have a Date next Week but how can I make it without crying? Crying again Nightly like there is nothing left, trying to keep it down so I could sleep. Forgetting what I see during sleep, barely productive during the Day. Can not make me Happy. I am planning on buying some Ketamine, it seems like it is the last thing that I would not use as a Drug but even Ketamine is recently a Risk due the Pain, the Aching of my Heart. I feel like I am going to die early due this Heart, if not due, … Giving the own Life into the Hands of someone else can not be done twice. I have many that other People do not have. A Tablet, a Phone, a Loudspeaker, a Camera, a Laptop, a second Tablet, one hundred Books and great clothing. But I miss real Happiness. That kind of Happiness that makes one tied to the People around one. Happiness that can be reproduced. When I laugh, it is Insanity.
Last Night, I was again surrounded by Voices trying to have full Conversations with me. Before going to Bed, a Face, someone I adore and hate the same, been shifting Mimics. I heard her Voice, but many thing I percieved been thoughts, no Voices. I started to cry many Times in Moments of Hope, in Moments of Despair, in Pain and due my Weakness. I‘m telling me that dying Assistance is the Way to go but I am not proactively desiring it, I don‘t like the farce but suffering short or suffering a whole, it is the whole because the world is obsolete when everything you see does not make it through you, into your Mind.
I started an Expensive Medicine Therapy, and I recovery great and fast in big steps physiologically but I do not recover psychic. I fear to Hang myself when I am strong enough for it. I shot myself, hang and lethally doesed myself in my mind. This is not the Happiness I cry for too.
It had been a Time since I wrote here. The Last Year been really challenging, I had the need in Emergency Ketamine due Suicidality, Sucidal Thoughts.
I got it not quite Legal and I am over it.
I recover from an Viral Infection, from an Encelopathy, from an Psychosis as an Post-Amnestic Syndrom, Polytoxicomania. Not quite little.
But, I am still not feeling like having any Integrity. And I can not make up my Mind. I have no clue where this is going to Lead, but I convinced myself to go a bit astray this Year and rechoice the next Year about Legal Dying Assistance as Legislation must release the Law for it in 2022.
I can count and I do it right all four Digits.
She is not alive Inside me, Love fills my missing Parts.
ICU been crowded, filled by myself with Voice in Pain.
Screaming over an over her Name and what it took, reflect again.
I sensed dying too often, can‘t trust, seeks no spark or joy.
Just she, me and ours in Interaction known and a couple of us from the flux pushed apart.
“Aspiring readily murder is looking out to haunt strangers in the Night with a Machete.”
You wanted to Help, Dauphnelle. Ready to Kiss me hard. Taking my Hope and waited for Love. Just to disappear, make me longe and look out for you each Day. I wrote all the Feelings I have through it all, made my Memory and Friends up that you is all that is important. You make me cry, you make me sad, each Day was worth to Die. I have been tortured to forget, I had been entertained, I had been chased. People made my Day. But, Nobody could catch a Bullet with their Teeth when I told about the Love, the Time we had.
I cry often to make me sane again, but my Obsession is drafted for you, and to have you aside me, to have the Little I believe that is Left of Life to be far more, yours my only need for the Rest of your Words to comply with the Life.
There is no without you, L. W.
But, I can be without, Trainrails are a cool camping outlook and Transquilizers are enough to wake up in the Tent aside.
Didn’t believed that escape would be happening alone. To Germany. A women visited me, she astonished me. I had been under self-medication to not leave her ablaze, to not cause Fear, Confusion or Communication Problems.
She left early. My thoughts right away been, that I need to be with her.
I have requested the Adress. She, Isolated herself.
I am coming for her. I fear that her Dad is sending me away.
I want to Life, and she is worth that. I want to Love, but this feeling, this requirement is new to me.
But, I can kill myself too, if I can not see her again.
If she isn’t real to me, if I can not life with her.
Explaining someone the Reason for Suicide Assistance and this beyond terminal Ill People leave them Voiceless.
But still, the next Day the Topic been tried to talked down to be ‘”philosophicating”, this is politising.
Hear me Out or you Hear the Weapons.
left me turning to an warmogger.
hive me a pistol and let me shot you.
I will applicate the damn deadly injection for you.
pushing you from a cruise ship.
incubating COVID19 just to infect others.
gift me a knife so I can show on your throat what the blade is able to.
just DO NOT DETACH ME FROM THE ONLY HUMAN I HAVE
OR I AM DEVOURING MORE ATOMIC DESASTERS DETONATED BY WILL.
and I am happy, not ashamed no one left to so me this much pain
- the people are miss i met in delusions.
- I’m in greed to kill me. it’s not worth that.
- happiness seems like surreal accompany.
- sick of food and drinks, even drugs and air.
- for collecting toxins
- laws to infiltrate
- official gender robes
i am for real only suicide idealizing.
to murder is just a hobby. this love of my time is confabulation that adheres to social disorder which can refract to an mental disorder and is at first place a political treat of occurence.
remembered me of a beloved one. like, the last one before I fell into Psychosis.
and there is no logical relationship causing me acting towards that danger. no suddenly, nothing rolling towards neither an immediate agent activity.
starts by oneself. though, I still would marry just to Die with assistance. but, the causes for the suicidality are reflected down. to Life for a Biography does not motivate me. not even compassionate happiness does me. the book is something, .. oh, and rememberance.
feels not like forgetfullness when I need to remind myself chapter per chapter about my own Life. i can not again tear everyone down with my focus on me, to find that me is still more than the average and come down to worthlessness and staggering progress or loose discipline. even if I’d find a similar chance, I always am sick about the loneliness that nobody believes, can relate to. the coin-redeemed thoughts in my Head being as a whole like cardhouses made by tyranny and drain. also the status quo. or demanding something from my greedfulness in an medium which is already plague, the awareness that the alternative can not be made of gears causing it. excuses that come like greetings. prejudices of an normality that should not be fueling people and their confidence. also confidence broken when someone tries to hold on to an justice, needs help from executives gets denied, ambulances who do arbitrary stuff. People not be told about their Politics, the Person itself restricted of possibilities to get proper insight, knowledge and understanding.
i like to, but fundamentally it is broken down still to infringement and a understanding of freedom, peace rarely People would know disrupted.
it feels not good to try to get enough of something.
the quality even increases.
close to all is back in my memories.
motivation are cigarettes.
solitude and sanity.
anger? most gone.
like to smile.
can not be left like that though. i would like to still, but the hassle of getting drugs? fears about are just to be conscious when it happens.
also, I can not sleep again through whole months, being vegetative seemingly. it’ll be called an exception some day to get into substances. facing the right medication, therapies.. but nothing of me being Human, any Interest.
Social Networks will Fade. I hate doing waste, doing Moods. Be Happy, most Type of Fun. Journeys.
The Uselessness starts not from Me that ache me, but None I will assault upon (again). No Progress through the Day. Subjective Gain just Moods again. Teamwork on Simple Things. Sports for Distraction. To Paint.
Even to write scales Down to something I would not need honestly.
to want to suicide, but giving the praying no information.
since ever in life, I wanted to Love in Hegemonia, Peace and Alongside. it was in my earliest.
700€ into a single suicide attempt.
may be me understood to share the heaven with the pyrotechnics, not Love.
I have Medicine that makes me unable to make Memories, unable to know any Perception, no thoughts or things in my Mind that I can sense.
And then I’ll jump.
I waste this much for Drugs.
My Mind is on 100 when I wake up. The Fight/Flight* or rather, get away, love somebody or get lost in People desire is controlling me. I feel addicted, but only when I smoke cigarettes. I do not want this. But, I can not find joy in these People. I miss the People I like, I can not reach them ever. Therapy is hopeless, the strangers, the talks do not satisfy me. The point where I like to stay in a Jail is reached. I would kill if I should. My aches are very hideous, I can not make them out no more, but any doctor I met is unable to this already for a very long time. This is not me I live, this is too surreal.
I think, I am a Dead Project. This Human is made to rot, rotten, rotten more.
I did not made it to the plane. Before of it, I had been accommodated to the psychiatric station which is locked.
Forced to either take the medicine and to stay for longer, to have the medicine injected and to leave after 4 hours on the 4th day, 1 day before the flight or to stay probably forever with no medicine of the neuroleptic kind.
They are tricky, but it feels rather that I am given the riskless, everything is dangerous but won’t kill you kind of reality. I had to take the medicine and right after, I cried. I hate who I saw in the mirror. I did not felt suicidal, but this feels unreal and to be within the spectrum of a schizophrenic illness extroverted by the medicine, and it is the social desire required to be able to say. Later on, I got the injection. I can tell no time, but going on from there was unable without self-harm and a general destructive and unfortunate result in Israel plus the risk for life and health for me and other can not be put on the verge on my mistakes.
Life is giving me lessons, and everything I do feels often without any value, does not get appreciation, is to be done within poor standards that do not fit mine. I tried under enforcing substances to make certain experiences, but failed even to be allowed to try basic activities of prostitution. There are yobs who are impressed, turned on, staring at me when I have a certain gender expressed, they are even demanding. The behaviour is rather obtrusive and the expectation is also unreal, does not fit the private manner of the subject. Alike this results, everyone asexual would be happy entirely, but I ain’t.
But, this is still plausible to my being, and I try to get over the imagination of me. I do not need it, but without it, I would be unable to have the actual life I have. With it, my Being is doing irrational things which aren’t even commencing logical at all. The Identity I have is out of breath by the disabilities that happen without any reason to be. As if I am caged.
As biological women*, I had already been mass raped. My corpse had been fucked atleast 5 times a day. I would not be faced in the public as people like me to like to do things. I would going to say I am loving and acting like the one in the beginning of the Movie “Eurotrip”. I would get any drug I like to and I would use my skills actively instead of passiv.
I am often and for a long period of time under drugs, but leave occasionally or visit someone for the night and stay awake, just because I like to. But I would like to feel as I have to stay awake, just to find a reason to not be ready to go shopping with a baseball bat and make trash and a bloody mess, be satisfied and more than just balance or to be poisoning children and to rave people. But, this is my disability I own, I ain’t any wrong. I am just mis-placed and want people who are alive to be alike, as they love living and I the one to purge them out.