Magenta
April 11th, 2012, 05:19 PM
I’m just going to make another thread that’s a waste of space but hey, I have nowhere else to go now. I’ll keep this one short now (on a side note, now that I've finished it, that's a lie) because I’m pretty sure anyone on this site who knows anything about me knows that I seem to just go through mental crisis after mental crisis without really any improvement.
This is where I recommend you just turn back because it was mostly written for no reason.
Let’s start with this: I’ve been off my meds for maybe five months now. I told myself I didn’t need them, I told myself I didn’t want to be someone who was going to be reliant on antipsychotics, or whatever other shit they find that actually does work even slightly, for most of my life because I just fucking collapse in on myself otherwise. Right now, I don’t know what I’m craving. I don’t know if I’m craving to get high because I was last night for the first time in awhile and at least I’m not… here… or if I’m actually craving meds because for once, FOR ONCE, I just want to be semi-stable and not imagining myself pounding my head in with a brick dug out of my driveway.
Thing is, my meds don’t even fully do that but at least they stop the dissociative episodes (which is ironic because I take dissociative drugs but at least that’s… different) and I can focus rather than being all fucking over the place, especially with the violent mood swings lately.
I have another psychiatrist appointment on Friday in the morning. I just can never get the words out when I’m there. They don’t even sound right coming out of my mouth. My voice doesn’t fit the thoughts. Too cheerful, too processed after years of covering up how much I’ve been hurting. So it doesn’t come out at all. I’m also terrified of what they would do. Obviously, I’ve been trying to kill myself (though not very well), I’ve been thinking about it nonstop, I’ve been wondering about running away, about hurting people, I just don’t even know half the time, I just know that I feel crazy. I wondered if maybe going to the ER down here would be an idea but I’ve always been told not to unless it’s an emergency. I’m alive so it can’t be an emergency, right?
I can’t keep going like this, I can’t. Today I had to take my cat to the vet and I know this sounds stupid but it was a massive trigger for me, wondering if I was going to lose her. Very unlikely but I was wondering anyway. I’d go completely off the edge if I did because she has very much kept me alive for awhile. I also can’t keep doing this shit to people: worrying them to whatever point (because I honestly don’t understand it but as I’ve said before, I’ve stopped denying it exists because I’m learning not to think everyone is a liar), having the girl I like wonder if she needs to come over just to keep me from hurting myself, making my parents wonder if they’re going to be planning a funeral. I mean, if I could get away with the shit I do without other people involved, I’d dive straight into it, I’d find a gun and pull the trigger. I spent a few weeks very heartlessly shutting off any acknowledgement that people care just to try to go through with killing myself, still didn’t work. It’s one tiny thread I’m hanging onto and it’s probably the only reason I’m even writing this.
I’m just like a burning match dangling over a good, dry forest. I’m going to drop and I’m going to burn everything in my way down, I can feel it. I got to a point last year I was trying to jump out of cars in the middle of the highway. I have a lot more physical control over my actions now but the mental repercussions… they’re a lot worse.
Anyway, I don’t even know what the point of this was. Biding my time until Friday, I suppose, until the weekend when my mum fills my prescription, until I can cut or get high or do… something. Trying not to implode on myself. Wondering how on earth I could ever tell this to anyone other than strangers on the internet who don’t have the physical person so opposite from the words she types out.
The next few nights are going to be so hard on me... I try to brave it on my own because I gave up on asking others for help so long ago but I'm going to snap, I really am. I can't actually ask for help anymore, I almost wish someone would just know but they never do. My own problem there. Ah well. I still feel I deserve whatever pain or danger I'm in or put myself in, I just wish it would all go away. I'm so indecisive and unsure about shit that I simply cannot seem to move forward and get any better. I'm sorry...
This is where I recommend you just turn back because it was mostly written for no reason.
Let’s start with this: I’ve been off my meds for maybe five months now. I told myself I didn’t need them, I told myself I didn’t want to be someone who was going to be reliant on antipsychotics, or whatever other shit they find that actually does work even slightly, for most of my life because I just fucking collapse in on myself otherwise. Right now, I don’t know what I’m craving. I don’t know if I’m craving to get high because I was last night for the first time in awhile and at least I’m not… here… or if I’m actually craving meds because for once, FOR ONCE, I just want to be semi-stable and not imagining myself pounding my head in with a brick dug out of my driveway.
Thing is, my meds don’t even fully do that but at least they stop the dissociative episodes (which is ironic because I take dissociative drugs but at least that’s… different) and I can focus rather than being all fucking over the place, especially with the violent mood swings lately.
I have another psychiatrist appointment on Friday in the morning. I just can never get the words out when I’m there. They don’t even sound right coming out of my mouth. My voice doesn’t fit the thoughts. Too cheerful, too processed after years of covering up how much I’ve been hurting. So it doesn’t come out at all. I’m also terrified of what they would do. Obviously, I’ve been trying to kill myself (though not very well), I’ve been thinking about it nonstop, I’ve been wondering about running away, about hurting people, I just don’t even know half the time, I just know that I feel crazy. I wondered if maybe going to the ER down here would be an idea but I’ve always been told not to unless it’s an emergency. I’m alive so it can’t be an emergency, right?
I can’t keep going like this, I can’t. Today I had to take my cat to the vet and I know this sounds stupid but it was a massive trigger for me, wondering if I was going to lose her. Very unlikely but I was wondering anyway. I’d go completely off the edge if I did because she has very much kept me alive for awhile. I also can’t keep doing this shit to people: worrying them to whatever point (because I honestly don’t understand it but as I’ve said before, I’ve stopped denying it exists because I’m learning not to think everyone is a liar), having the girl I like wonder if she needs to come over just to keep me from hurting myself, making my parents wonder if they’re going to be planning a funeral. I mean, if I could get away with the shit I do without other people involved, I’d dive straight into it, I’d find a gun and pull the trigger. I spent a few weeks very heartlessly shutting off any acknowledgement that people care just to try to go through with killing myself, still didn’t work. It’s one tiny thread I’m hanging onto and it’s probably the only reason I’m even writing this.
I’m just like a burning match dangling over a good, dry forest. I’m going to drop and I’m going to burn everything in my way down, I can feel it. I got to a point last year I was trying to jump out of cars in the middle of the highway. I have a lot more physical control over my actions now but the mental repercussions… they’re a lot worse.
Anyway, I don’t even know what the point of this was. Biding my time until Friday, I suppose, until the weekend when my mum fills my prescription, until I can cut or get high or do… something. Trying not to implode on myself. Wondering how on earth I could ever tell this to anyone other than strangers on the internet who don’t have the physical person so opposite from the words she types out.
The next few nights are going to be so hard on me... I try to brave it on my own because I gave up on asking others for help so long ago but I'm going to snap, I really am. I can't actually ask for help anymore, I almost wish someone would just know but they never do. My own problem there. Ah well. I still feel I deserve whatever pain or danger I'm in or put myself in, I just wish it would all go away. I'm so indecisive and unsure about shit that I simply cannot seem to move forward and get any better. I'm sorry...