implode/explode
 

*hugs* do you want to talk about it?

eh i'm just being a **** up.
so easily stressed at the moment and feel like my head is going to explode. not really sure why i'm being so expecting of myself... its like one extreme to the other. all or nothing . there is no in between.
i want an off switch. i mean, even just for a break... can someone switch me off for 24hours downtime. please.
and why i feel responsible for things that i have control over i know is completely irrational but it still, consistently happens.
*turns off all electrical appliances and becomes hermit.
if i didn't worry so much i would. i knew it was silly...why give your number to people that you're in hospital with- well, i was lonely, they were my friends..are ...but its so heavy going...and they've seen me very vulnerable...they know my pressure points. i know they're too caught up in their own stuff to register that things are having such an effect on me but *sigh*

so many things getting on top of me.
mixture of cold turkeying the meds and attempting to give up everything that made a difference in my life , helped me to cope, all at the same time...was a stupid idea.

i'm hitting burn out, fast, and i know it. we can all dream though. i thought i was actually making it work- i really did. convinced myself that even on the days where suicide crept in, it was 'normal' for people to have down days.

the amount of days i can keep this up are numbered.
i'm going to have a cigar after this post. the first thing smoked in this house since november 2nd.
and i don't care. not anymore.


spiderweb realisations that twist like gossamer on the breeze, sublingual mutterings;thermodynamics of the soul...entropy failing..
pattern recognition
frequency modulation

dissolve me like alka-seltzer
take me away from this.

one thing is for sure- i'm glad i didn't throw anything out; haven't got the money for supplies of any kind so its helpful.
dont know why i didn't throw things out. would have made more sense- guess i knew this was coming at some point.

The taste of emptiness on my tongue,ammonite curled, spiralling into the 'last cigarette', screen-burned eyes tell me this makes sense, someone please.

Bah. My thoughts are shifting as I try to write this post so I can’t seem to finish a version without ending up in self-contradiction. It started off as a post talking about some suicidal thoughts I’ve had recently, then shifted around to something else as I wrote it.

Over the last few days, I’ve been feeling closer to suicide than I have for a while. I’ve got as far as making sure the tools i've never actually gotten rid of, are still viable.. I’ve written the note in my head a few times.

All through going to see friends and appearing [being] happy, witty and in good sorts, I’ve had an underlying certainty that I will be dead at some future date.

I hate being so rational about this. If I was crying and shaking and grabbing my tools, then I’d have a problem that could be sorted out ... Turn up at casualty and be patronised by a psychiatrist until I lose the will to die. But there’s no point doing either, because there’s nothing to treat.

I’m not delusional. I’m not in a psychotic state. A tranquiliser would just make me fall asleep and I’d wake up feeling the same way. An hour session with a counseller isn’t going to cut it.

After a decade and a half of suicidal ideation it’s hard to get worked up about the fact I want to die.
And while thinking about this, the thought crossed my mind about what would happen if I went ahead and failed. As I said, I’m thinking rationally about things. Considering the consequences is part of that.

I’ve used my self-harm in a bid to get treated before. It’s not something I’m very proud of and it didn’t work very well. the only real long term consequence of which is that i'll never get the feeling back in my right hand fully. At the time I was distressed. It wasn’t pre-meditated, but even that act was fairly rational. I needed help right then. The one thing I could think of doing to get that help was to present at casualty with obvious symptoms. One's that people could see, at least. And if the NHS had been in working condition and the hospital had been following their own ****ing guidelines, it would have worked.


When I was a teenager, I considered using suicide as a cry for help. My actual failed suicide attempts convinced me this wasn’t a great idea.
So, getting back to the point, what would be the consequences if I failed?

Look at the situation I’m in now. The way things are supposed to work is: You know you have a problem. You seek out medical help. You get treated. Need for suicidal behaviour is averted somewhat.

But the way things have worked for me so far seems more like: You seek out medical help. You get half-hearted responses from everyone you see. You get told you’ll be referred for things which eventually happen after years of trying, You get referred to the place that you think is really going to help. the national centre- the specialists. They tell you, you're too complex. no one can help you.
And despite the disappointment and dull anger that the current situation is causing, I still hold on to the possibility that treatment might work to some extent. I can only justify suicide, in terms of the pain it will cause others, if I’ve tried the alternative first. The fact that I’m not getting the alternative I’ve hoped for is the real problem i suppose.

I suppose the reality is , there isn't any help for someone like me. i know its not really something one comes across every day. i knew this from the start that no one would really Know but i suppose i was hoping for just a little understanding.

for the best part- i supposse it'd be easier if i myself could cope with what i've been given to carry through this life. fact is, hiding behind smiles and niceties only works for a short amount of time as a relative.


I don’t want random people coming along and thinking this is a good idea. It’s a ****ing terrible idea. But right now, I don’t have many ideas left.

things turn to **** so quickly

fail? yes.

this episode of self-injury is part of the ongoing feeling-like-**** of the last couple of weeks, which has mixed an unexpected level of functionality with some fairly strong suicidal ideation. So, things have been all kinds of fun.

Currently I have enough energy to actually do stuff, which is slightly more concerning.
But I’m fairly practiced in not killing myself, so it’s not time to worry yet.

I don’t know, things just suck. My ability to cope with this **** might've been better than it has been for a while lately , but that doesn’t mean that things aren’t sucking more ,as well.
Last night I fell asleep (eventually) to internal dialogue along the lines of “You’re a ****ing idiot, ****ing waste of ****ing space, why don’t you just ****ing die?” again, which is always fun.*sighs*

this whole loneliness thing has gotten stuck in my mind like a piece of grit in a shoe. And while I’ve been feeling a little giddy with my surge of energy and functionality, considering what, in reality, are some really dumb ideas.

oh well- looks like i ****ed up again