Instead of posting this shit to Facebook anymore, I'll post it here since no one reads this shit anyway and won't leave useless "I love you"s and "feel better"s.
7•9•19
I wish there were a way to die without it hurting the people who love me. I don't want to live on this planet anymore, and the freedom of death has never felt so necessary. I want it all to end but I can't bring myself to end it so I'm stuck in this torturous hell being a miserable human being and pushing away the only person on the planet that I don't want to disappoint. I don't want to do this anymore.
Tuesday, July 9, 2019
Wednesday, July 3, 2019
It's happening again
It's happening again. I'm falling again, hard. I've already lost most of what I had built up from the last time this happened; I'm staying with my boyfriend, I have nothing to my name, I'm waiting tables, and the mental spiral I've been in is coming to a head. I'm terrified to say the least. I feel legitimately crazy most days, like I don't even know who I am anymore. Yesterday was a good day and I felt like a fog had lifted. Today was bad again, and then it got way worse. Today I had to go to a walk in crisis clinic so that I didn't try to kill myself for a 5th time. The thoughts are all in my head again. Just the other day I told my best friend Andrew that I was driving around fantasizing about being demolished in a high speed accident, wondering how they would know how to reach him, my boyfriend Jaco and my other best friend Adam. I've made several mental lists of who I would write down for the cops to call when I do finally do it. I've thought about the best way to do it; for me, I'd bleed out into a warm bubble bath. Or I could do it in the river but I don't want to get swept down because that would fuck up an open casket funeral. I could just poison myself to save my face somehow but that seems like a tremendous amount of suffering.
I've been passively suicidal my entire life. I think about dying every single day. Sometimes it's only a few seconds in a difficult moment, and other days it consumes my every waking thought. I haven't made a plan in a long time though, which is why I'm so stressed right now. The last time I made a plan was 2017, and I ended up on a mental unit for 8 days. It didn't help much but the therapy and meds did for the few months I had access to them. I was maintaining okay until I got a DUI in May of '18, and then my beloved grandpa died the day before my birthday less than a month later. I moved into an awesome house with awesome people in Aug two months later and those people helped me heal and I was starting to do better. I met the most incredible man, and I was so happy and looking so forward to the future, and then my dad found my mom down in her room after she had been sick and we hadn't spoken since Feb, and she was brain dead and now I never get to talk to her again. The only person keeping me going is my boyfriend and he's sick of my shit too. I can feel it. I'm sick of my shit too, and I don't know what to do anymore. I want to make Jaco happy, and I want my girls to be happy, and I want my grandma to be happy and I want everyone to be happy but I can't do it, and I'm not happy, and what is even the fucking point.
I've been passively suicidal my entire life. I think about dying every single day. Sometimes it's only a few seconds in a difficult moment, and other days it consumes my every waking thought. I haven't made a plan in a long time though, which is why I'm so stressed right now. The last time I made a plan was 2017, and I ended up on a mental unit for 8 days. It didn't help much but the therapy and meds did for the few months I had access to them. I was maintaining okay until I got a DUI in May of '18, and then my beloved grandpa died the day before my birthday less than a month later. I moved into an awesome house with awesome people in Aug two months later and those people helped me heal and I was starting to do better. I met the most incredible man, and I was so happy and looking so forward to the future, and then my dad found my mom down in her room after she had been sick and we hadn't spoken since Feb, and she was brain dead and now I never get to talk to her again. The only person keeping me going is my boyfriend and he's sick of my shit too. I can feel it. I'm sick of my shit too, and I don't know what to do anymore. I want to make Jaco happy, and I want my girls to be happy, and I want my grandma to be happy and I want everyone to be happy but I can't do it, and I'm not happy, and what is even the fucking point.
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