399. Survival tactics
I'm still not better, I'm spiraling out of control and I'm too weak to stop it. I'm trying to make it a few more days until practice but I'm dangling by a string I didn't even know was there. Self harm doesn't help any more, my mind is filled with the image of a bottle of pills. I'm losing grip on reality, I'm going crazy, and nothings stopping it. All I can do is slow it. But as time slows and reality fades I can't help but feel the irony of the situation. It was about this time last year I didn't know if I'd make it another day, yet here I am. Living, breathing, and writing once more. It's riskier the second time around, the cuts get deeper and the attempts begin to be more than just a cry for help. Once again I'm falling down the rabbit hole of pity and despair. Again I've asked for help, again it's getting worse, again I've started to push people away so it won't hurt as much if I don't come back from my deep dive into emotions. Again, again, again. I don't know what to hate, my brain, my meds, or myself.
400. Oh the irony
I put up a good front, so good in fact people want to be like me. Me, a mentilly ill teen who tries not to kill herself in her free time. They want to be like me, a person who doesn't know what the fuck they need. If only they knew I've been to six mental hospitals. If only they knew masking the shit I deal with everyday is slowly killing me. If only they knew that with the confidence comes the daily attempts at suicide. If only they knew I fucking hate myself. If they knew, if they knew half the shit I deal with they'd shun me so they could pretend it doesn't exist. "It's just your mind set" yeah? Well what about all the time I was fine? What about the aggressive mood swings and the constant need to stop myself from jumping off a cliff. I'm too much for the world to deal with so they pretend it's just my mind set, like Iit's made myself like this. I tried to think positively but I ended up taking four painkillers. Fucking help me instead of antaganizing me.
401. What do I want
I can't tell if I want to die. I know I want to die when I'm in my lows because I'm suffering so bad, and in my highs because I don't know the person I am anymore, but right now I feel normal. And I still want to disappear. I'm just tired man, I've been fighting for way too long. I hate constantly fighting something no one else can see, I'm dying, even when it doesn't look like it. I feel like I'm just waiting for a low so I can have enough courage to do it. I think when the low comes I won't be able to stop it, because I wont want to.
402. Suicidal
Yesterday I couldn't stop contemplating my suicide. I had a plan, where, when, and what. I'm exhausted, when the meds kick in I still get the thoughts, I still have depression, I still feel odd, it's just not so much so to where I feel like i'm dying. it feels more like a disease that'll slowly eat at me and I know one day it'll become worse and it'll kill me. It just feels like a cold, still there but it doesn't feel like I'm activity dying. I feel like I have brain cancer, meds make it better but it's still there and I'm constantly fighting for a life it'll take away. I'm at peace with my life and how it ends, I'm okay with it, I just dont think I should be.
403. This
I like to talk, talking makes me feel less invisible, it makes me feel more real. I like to talk constantly, I like to talk about things I like. I like when people get excited about things I get excited about, or when people tell me about something that makes them excited. No matter how seen I am I still feel invisible. I write to be heard, because through writing people listen. Maybe it's because they read what I say by choice, but when I talk the ears that hear don't care to.
404. The feeling
What sucks about getting better is getting worse again. You can feel it, you can feel yourself changing, you can feel the mood swings and you can feel the highs and lows. It's like when you get really mad and don't have complete control over your emotions or what you say but you're aware of it. But it doesn't go away after a few minutes or a run, or a burst of energy, or any reactive behavior to make it go away. It stays for hours, maybe even days, and it always comes back. Maybe it's the dread that'll kill me, the knowledge that no matter what I do, no matter how happy I am, the feeling will come back and it'll be worse each time. Save me from the hell that is my mind. Save me because I can't save myself.
405. Corrupt mind
My mind is broken, broken and scattered. It has turned against itself. lonely and tired. It self-destructed and I merely delayed it. The medication rewires my brain so that it doesn't feel the need to self-destruct. I feel helpless without it. I feel like I have a virus and the antidote stopped working. I feel like without it, it's certain death. I feel like I'll die without it. I'm not overreacting. Everything I feel quadruples in intensity. So when I feel bad, like mad or jealous or something I feel physically sick, it feels like my body is shutting down and I'm dying. I never know when I'm overreacting, but even when I am overreacting, everything still feels very real. It feels inevitable, like no matter what I do the feeling will come back, and I will always be around the corner from the edge. I use my therapy shit and I'm still constantly so close to death itself.
406. Floating
I wonder what heavens like, what if we all got to choose our heavens? What would mine be? Maybe It'd be in the ocean, floating forever, swaying and moving with the water. Or maybe id in the water, sinking slowly to the deepest parts and watching as creatures I didn't know existed pass me. Maybe I'd be floating on the clouds above us, watching as birds fly by, wondering what their destination might be. Maybe even lying in a field, listening to the noises around me and feeling at peace.
407. Tall giant
Intimidating though he's quiet, sweet like a friendly giant. He's tall and lovely, warm and homey. He's like a nice tea, perfect for me. I love so quickly, and fall so easily, so does he, just like me. I think I'm in love, I feel free like a dove. His looks are charming, but the smoke is harming. I can't tell if it's jealousy or thoughts of the past but he's perfect I swear if it wasn't for that. The smoke just surrounds me and it's all that I see, smoke equals lies in the eyes of me.
408. Indecisive
I don't like it. I don't like not knowing what I actually feel, or think or want, or anything really. And I'm just constantly pissing myself off. It's hard being human, it's hard. So hard in fact sometimes I'm willing to trade it for death. Maybe that makes me selfish, maybe that makes me an asshole, maybe that's a dick move but even when I don't feel bad I feel bad. The only time im okay is when im distracted, and its fucking killing me. I wish I wasnt such a fucking coward and just picked up the bottle but im so damn indisicve that im constantly walking the line between life and death. And I'm constantly suffering because I can't pick a side.
