hey it’s lo !! hi !! just quickly sliding in to say thank you to everyone who interacted with my post last night. I was really, really deep down in the pit and even though I wasn’t in any immediate danger, your love and help and support did get me through the night.
though I’m so, so incredibly sorry to see how many of you have struggled with suicidal thoughts, it also means a lot to see that I’m not alone with this. thank you so, so much for the reminder.
sending you all so incredibly much love right now, my darlings 💗 lo out !!
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I’m not even kidding when I say that James Wilson as a a character has done more for my introspection and growth as a person than therapy ever did. I spent my whole life wondering why I, as an otherwise entirely well-adjusted and straight-laced person on the surface, exclusively surrounds myself with addicts and unstable people (affectionate). Why I used to skip class in high school to stop my friends from overdosing, or hurting themselves, begging them to be institutionalised. Why I used to give my pills away to classmates who swore they’d kill themselves if I stopped. I could’ve pulled away - I could’ve made friends with rich kids with happy lives who won’t ask me to drive them to the psych ward at 12PM on a Tuesday. My mom always said I’m a people pleaser and a doormat and it’s why I end up in parking lots at 3AM doing drug deals on other people’s behalves and loaning tons of money to people who’d never pay me back. But it’s not that I’m a nice person! It feeds me as much as it feeds them! It’s an internal validation issue manifested through a seeming lack of personal conviction! Now I get it, and it’s so satisfying to see this sort of personality being portrayed as a pathology rather than something to pity or idolise. Yes there’s something wrong with me but it’s not that I’m too generous; excessive enabling is just as selfish as exploitative behaviour itself. Somehow it took a medical procedural for me to realise that, but-
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I can’t remember when I stopped caring , when it stopped feeling so intense and personal. I can’t remember when it stopped making me so angry at everything and only enraged at myself, when I stopped trying to say no, when I stopped trying to find ways out, when I stopped fighting for the grieving child inside me,when it all turned too repetitive to change, I don’t remember when exactly I stopped caring about dying in this house., I’m just tired, ready to die somewhere, and I don’t care where anymore.
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I’m going to be very transparent for a sec. I’ve had two alcohol induced psychosis events happen to me in the past week where I attempted to harm myself and ended up talking to police officers. I’m a recovering alcoholic that tries really really hard but keeps relapsing. I’ve tried AA and therapy and nothing is helping because they keep telling me to look for “my higher power” and I’m not gonna lie, in my opinion, that shit is wack. I’m struggling a lot and faith is the last thing on my mind. Anyways, I wanted to make this post to thank y’all for being one of the main sources of happiness and support for me. I don’t get a lot of people outside of this community that reach out to me when im hurting so im very grateful to have y’all in my silly little phone. I promise I will be back to making mods and what not soon but I’ve been really enjoying making music, it feels almost therapeutic. But yeah, thanks for being here for me y’all. I love you guys.
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Actually how do you make yourself have a will to live and enjoy hobbies again bc… nothing is working
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Nothing like chilling on the couch, opening google on my phone so I can watch youtube only to find my last opened tab was ‘when to go to the ER for suicidality’ 😭
I’m somehow totally fine now but earlier today I was going for a walk and started thinking about all the crap that’s happened to me and how trapped I feel with my parents recently. I got the worst suicidality I’ve had in years, actually probably the most severe acute moment of suicidality I’ve ever experienced. I was gonna call an ambulance right then because I didn’t trust myself to walk back out of the ravine without doing something but thankfully it passed quickly and I feel normal now.
I should maybe tell my partner though, but I hate to worry them because their ex was very suicidal and put it on my partner in a really horrible way so the last thing I want to do is make them feel like they have to keep me alive. Idk, I should ask them what they want me to do I think. It’ll be a horrible conversation but I think it’s necessary if things continue this way, a worse conversation would be ‘hey, I’m at the ER right now’ or G-d forbid the call from someone other than me.
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Every time I see fictional enactments of people having mental breakdowns I’m like. ‘Is it not normal to do that like three times a week’. I’m going to have. Such major heart problems. My whole life. I just know it.
The swinging between hysterical, sad and mad? The eyes wide rolling around in my damn skull? The struggle to breathe and not choke on your own spit? The sensation that you might just lash out at anyone or anything that gets too close? The existential hysteria questioning YOUR VERY EXISTENCE AND THE EXISTENCE OF CAUSALITY AND WHY THINGS ARE THE WAY THEY ARE AND COULD THEY NOT BE AND COULD SOMEONE JUST TAKE ME AWAY TAKE ME AWAY.
It’s that last part especially. When you start getting. So. In your god damn feels. YOURE BEGGING THE UNIVERSE FOR REPRIEVE ON REPEAT AS YOU SWAY BACK N FORTH LIKE YOURE HAVING THE WORST TRIP IMAGINABLE TRYING TO CONTACT GOD. HELP ME. HELP ME. HELP ME. HELP ME. KILL ME. RUN OVER MY HEAD. NEVER WAKE ME. SEND ME TO HELL ILL PAY FOR MY SINS NOW PLEASE PLEEAASSE ANYTHING BUT A MOMENTS MORE OF TORMENT. that kinda. Shit.
Every day people look at me and tell me I’m fine. I’m smart I’m practical I’m insightful I’m hanging on I’m resourceful I seem GREAT. Hell. My problems aren’t even that bad from their perspective (and maybe they’re right!)
I want to kill them every time and maybe one day I’ll smack someone across the face. Maybe break my knuckles smashing their nose into their brain. I think. I deserve it.
ANYWAY. had another lapse of mental angst because I cannot prioritize without a helper and that means I’m drowning in an infinitely vast array priorities, and should I spare one even a second of my attention, my anxiety comes running at me with a machete to ritually slaughter me for thinking for a second THAT was my highest priority.
I just want. To live. But I cannot. Because my brain doesn’t know what’s important. Except for. Being In a Domestic Cow Like State of UNTHINKING. and it makes me wanna explode my surroundings with my mind.
I’m getting a headache from being stuck in executive dysfunction too long and I donttt liikkeee iittttt.
LIKE. I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HAVIN A GOOD ONE. I was supposed to be feelin a GOOD EMOTION SPARKED. INSPIRATION. INSPIRATION FOR MY DESIRE TO WRITE A STORY. But instead. I was smacked with that reminder that. I don’t choose what’s important and what needs to be done and if I do it. I don’t get to choose. So why both having dreams? Why bother having wants? Wishes? Why bother? (It would matter more if I had a community that HELPS ME and maybe I have a community that PROTECTS me but that’s. Not the same. I feel so fuckin brainless. My thoughts bounce in every direction but go Nowhere. They loop back on themselves and fight each other like rabid animals. I don’t know how I’m supposed to live with a brain like this. Forever. Happily. Not without reliable support. Which doesn’t exist. There is no such thing as reliable. Everything is temporary. So it’s always fINE THEN you have to FIND A WAY TO COPE. ALONE? FOREVER? It’s bullshit. I hate this shit. Ahhhhh.
I wanted to think Ooo Ahh inspiration for a story I want to write so bad.
But it just went ‘when. When will you write. How. Will you be afloat. Will it distract you. Distract you from friends from life from stability? You can’t even take care of yourself you don’t deserve to do anything until you can take care of yourself and function with others and *you have so many other higher priorities that will kill you if you do not attend to them first*’
Weeps
THERAPIST SAID I DIDNT HAVE OCD. NOT EVEN PURE O. AND MAYBE SHE RIGHT. I CAN STOP THINKING ABOUT IT. IF PUSHED IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION. WHICH IM NEVER. BECAUSE IM ALONE. AND THAT MEANS I END UP RUMINATING TIL I HAVE HEART AND STOMACH PAINS. AHHHHHHH.
Awoooo
Awoooo
I hate it
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