Those of you who saw my “Sushi-In-A-Desert” picture may have noticed this in the comments:
At some point on Sunday evening, I realized I couldn’t resist.
Samurai eating pizza in a bowling alley with an ancient Greek priestess.
Hei! Let’s just start that I have been hospitalized basically since 16th of december( was let out beginning of march but taken in after 4 days..). I made a suicide attempt and thats how it started. They are still not sure I won’t do it again so they keep raising my antidepressants dose and keep me in hospital. But I am not depressed and actually I believe I will end with suicide anyway, regardless of my mood and wether its sooner or later. I wonder what will be done with me if I endlessly admit to being suicidal. Will I be just let out eventually cause they can’t keep me forever alive or will I be put into mentally ill care place forever?
How long have others here been to mental hospital? From what I’ve read I understand in US people are released more quickly.
I actually can’t imagine what will I do after getting out. My life was supposed to end in December. I don’t want to attempt again because of my parents but I know that even if I think in the hospital that way, temptation will be hard to resist outside.
I’m back here again. I think I know the answer to the question “Is life better than the alternative?”. Its not. I mean how can it be? As I sit here is my dark room, I can see that I’m not alone. I have a companion who likes to sit in the dark just like me. Usually he just sits by himself in the corner. But today his gaze is upon me. He is beckoning me. “Its time” he whispers. “Come to me. I will take you to a better place”. I don’t think I can resist him anymore. Its weird, I can almost see wings. Why do I see the Reaper as my saviour? Like some kind of dark guardian angel…
The last few days have been the worst in a while. He doesn’t like my scars and said its a deal breaker if I cut again. he doesn’t like me smoking or drinking. he hates that suicide crosses my mind every day. ive been so depressed, and I am forbidden from using my coping strategies. I tied myself a noose last night, just in case. I held the blade against my skin and managed to resist slicing. I beat myself with a belt tonight to try and feel something again. He doesn’t like how skinny I am, even though ive put on 5lb for him already. I just want to purge until there’s nothing left of me. Is this what recovery is? I know he is good for me, but this feels like torture.
Lately my aunts been telling me i do or did things yeti have no memory of it, the other day she finally lost it and said i was just fucked up in the head and said she had to walk oug to resist beating the shit out of me. Thats all i remember but i woke up in the middke of the night my arm hurting and by the looks of it i stabbed myself with scissors. The next day i noticed the skin around it turning green, is that bruising from the impact or should i be worried, idk i just didnt know where else to ask.
I can’t get no sleep
Ok, so that’s an exaggeration. Even on the worst nights, I usually manage 1-2 hours. What I mean to say is that I can’t get enough sleep to function properly. During my work week, I spend most of the time wandering around in a haze, zombified, narrowly avoiding bumping into people, longing for the day to end. But then the night finally comes, and I just can’t get to sleep at a reasonable hour, no matter how tired I am.
I feel like I’ve tried all the standard advice. Sticking to routines, exercise, limiting technology use, changing my diet, meditation, yoga, warm baths etc. None of it seems to make a difference. I’d like to try sleeping pills, but I’ve heard they’re only effective for a couple of months, and I’ve been like this for years, getting progressively worse.
A part of my brain just won’t let go of consciousness, until I’m so tired it can no longer resist. It can’t accept the reality it perceives during the day. It wants me constantly alert, searching for a way out, a way to make things ok, when clearly none exists. My body is in a constant state of low level fear. There is no longer any safe space, no refuge. There is no peace of mind.
I don’t know how to move forward with anything when my body won’t even allow the basic functioning that would provide me with concentration, focus, energy etc. Even treading water feels increasingly impossible.
I found my way back to this site, over 3 years since my first and only post. It’s been so long I had forgotten I even made an account. And how disheartening it was to have the realization that in many ways, I am no better now than I was then. The stigma that is still around mental health leads people to believe that these conditions are just something one can “get over”. That surrounding yourself with loved ones, exercising, getting a pet, etc., will “cheer you up”. I stand as one of so very many examples that this is not the case. Though I am still young, I have battled depression and suicidal tendencies since I was small. I have never been formally diagnosed, due to my staunch refusal to seek help for my own reasons. I now regret that decision, and can only wonder what could have been for me if I had. The mental health care system is undeniably flawed, but perhaps even the slightest amount of assistance would have done me some good. As it is, I feel as though I have dug my own grave and I’ve been lying in it waiting to die for a long time. I am so very, very tired. Emotionally, physically, mentally. Like I’ve spent years fighting an invisible battle that nobody but me can see. That nobody understands when I desperately attempt to explain. That everyone judges me for, because they can’t see my scars. This has left me drained, and in total fear. I am afraid, because I am getting too weak to hold myself together, too fatigued to wear my mask, and too tired to resist the terrible urges to end this pain. I have fought alone for so long that I have completely exhausted my ability to cope. And so now I live in terror, trapped in the grave I dug, too weak to claw my way back up, in too much pain to resist the allure of death. To all those out there fighting the same invisible battle, know that even though I don’t know you, I care about you. And I’d fight right there beside you, because I know how much it hurts to do it alone. I am with you in this, even if you can’t see me. Nobody should have to fight alone.
Dear city of more,
It seems like it will never end. I want to be out in the streets with you, out fighting the good fight but I am debilitated by this sorrow. I am not able to do my own work. I can only read articles and weave through media to get tangled in this debate that is no debate at all. I send to you love, the little I have in my heart. I am worn but will resist in the ways I can and will be there when I can, as much as I want to just die and not have to see this and not have to deal with this. and i also don’t have to deal with it because I am privileged and because I am light skinned and because i am not the target, which is why it is my duty to thrust my body between.
Silence is the keystone in my life. It is the builder, the modifier, and the end result. It is the constant. It is a bit like Zero. Anything multiplied by It becomes It. It is undefined in division. It is the representation of Nothing, but It has more meaning than almost any other thing.
Everything returns to Silence. How can Nothing be so prevalent? How can Nothing be so important? Humanity chases the Silence of past generations and declares It history. Humanity chases the secrets hidden in the Silence of space. We always end up in Silence, one way or another. Perhaps It is the proper order of things. Who am I to resist?
I’m getting to the top, I can’t resist too much, I hate being alive, I have so many fucking problems, I’m close to turn 21 and I think I have not lived what I wanted to live by this age, My health has never been worse, I think I’m getting into a very serious eating disorder, I’m starting to harm myself again, I’m starting to hate myself even more and hate everything around me, I feel fed up, tired, sad, and so fucking weak all the time. I try to communicate with my family, but I barely see them and that makes everything even harder, I want them to help me but it seems so fucking impossible. Even when I feel I scream for help no one comes. I need help. As soon as possible. I seriously don’t know what to do.
I have a bad habit of not taking my meds. Only two of them are important, one stops the seizures and the other helps me from attempting at my life. Even when i’m on my meds i still wish to die but off of them,hell i can only say it’s hard to resist killing myself. My boyfriend would be completely ruined and so would my family. That’s the only reason to be honest, i except the thought of death. I’ve been told that i’m selfish and complain a lot but if people knew the crippling pain i was in they would shut the fuck up. They have no clue how much i so for them without saying anything. Fuck i’ve even snuck money to people. I just wish they could understand the pain
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.
giggles, smiles, happy moments
shattered broken and
Disappearing replaced with a broken heart and tears
A deeper darkness than you will ever know
Pushing on is to much
Causing more and more pain
The thought is more sweet than ever
Maybe it would be better
Everyone would be happy
The Darkness grows stronger with each passing day
Its the better option
Everyone else would be happy
At work I’m supposed to fill out these safety cards, basically saying that I saw a co-worker doing something safe or unsafe. Theres a drawing where you can win a gift card and other stuff. Well, I’ve got to fill out two a week at least. I already did a “safe”one, so today I just wanted to get my “unsafe” card out of the way. Well, guess who I happened to see go outside without his orange vest on. What’s that? My ex, you say? You’re quite right, you smart cookie, you. So I write him up the card, give the info half to my manager, as is expected, then I gave the other part to my ex. I explain to him that when he goes utside while on company time he MUST wear the vest. He’s been warned over a hundred times, and that’s just by me. Next thing I know, I’m getting yelled at by him, being accised of “being out to get him”. Yeah, totally out to get him. With *safety cards*. Sarcasm there. Then he bitches about how I have seniority over him (two fucking days over him) and how he doesn’t like my tone when I talk to him. Well, a few things I couldn’t resist pointing out. 1-not out to get him, greatly dislike him though, 2-he’s supposed to leave me alone in the first place, 3- I know what he’s said about me, people either like me or pity me enough to tell me. After that he started to apologize, saying he didn’t know I was around when he said that. At this point, I’m pissed. I start telling him to shut up, and to stop talking about me, because you don’t see me telling people I work with that he’s evil or a little *****. Then later on he starts telling other people that he’s thinking about leaving. I hope he does. I almost told him the same thing he told me after calling me a bitchass ****: “I hope you quit, bettet yet get fired, so I don’t have to deal with you.
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