January 2012
516 posts
Ending 2011 depressed and suicidal.
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“I feel like I can’t maintain the facade any longer - that I may just start to...”
– Elizabeth Wurtzel
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As pathetic as it is, I’m contemplating quitting my job. As things get more and more out of control, leaving my comfort zone makes me anxious - on edge. Staying in my house makes me feel safe. Secure. In control. I don’t know how many more 8 hour shifts I can take. My mind is frail under all this pressure.
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Anonymous asked: I'm going to put something nice in your ask every day this year. I know you get a lot of questions in your inbox, so don't worry about replying to them or anything, but I think you deserve to have something happy to count on every day, even if it's something as inconsequential as a note from an anon.
December 2011
91 posts
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I keep thinking about stopping my medication. I feel like I used to at least be sad on some level. I felt pain. On medication, I feel nothing. I feel like all my emotions are turned off…all my problems swept under the carpet.
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Two thousand eleven: elapsed and summarized.
January: downward spiral, drinking, smoking, partying every weekend, trying to numb the pain
February: sweet 16 spent alone, deeper depression, cutting begins
March: isolation, crying, alone, cutting
April: always tired, suicidal, more cutting, long sleeves begin to raise suspicions
May: planning my suicide, school stress wearing on me, utterly alone
June: darkest month of the entire year,...
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“I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to...”
– Haruki Murakami
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It's probably a good thing I don't drive.
I spend hours fantasizing about being crazed behind the wheel, glancing at my seatbelt I haven’t bothered to touch just before swerving into blinding headlights and blaring horns. Then silence. Peace. Escape. Even when I’m a passenger in the car, I never wear my seatbelt. I secretly - and selfishly - wish for a fatal crash.
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Mother: Do you have one of our steak knives? I can't find it anywhere.
Me: Steak knives? No. Why would I have it?
Me: *Glances at top dresser drawer, where the missing steak knife lies nestled among my other treasures*
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“You’re not dead, but you’re not alive either. You’re a ghost...”
– Laurie Halse Anderson, Wintergirls
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Anonymous asked: That's awful that they're doing that! You should tell Erin, honestly. Because surely now you don't have the right amount of pills?
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New Year's Eve is always a time for confusion.
Just like a couple years in middle school, I’m spending this New Year’s at my house. Alone. It’s probably not a wonderful idea to ring in the new year in such a negative state of mind, but, as I’ve learned in the past, it’s not so simple to change. I don’t know what my New Year’s resolution is. Maybe it’s to get better. Or maybe it’s to do what...
Anonymous asked: I don't understand, why does your sister have some of your pills?
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The day after Christmas, my mom and I were discussing how drunk my sister had gotten the night before. I was expressing how much I hated when she drank. I hated when she changed. My mom nodded and said, “Especially if you’re on Zoloft, it makes it worse when you drink.” I froze when I heard that, simply because I was so angry. First of all, she’s not on Zoloft. She has...
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I wish I could ignore the fact that I’m slowly slipping back into my old habits. And maybe even adopting some new ones. Isolation. Nightmares. Waking up constantly in the middle of the night. Cutting. And now I’m starting to sleep all the time when I shouldn’t. I just don’t feel like living, and sleeping is the less drastic of my two options. I’m trying not to start...
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“Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it...”
– Sylvia Plath
I had a dream that I was standing on the edge of a balcony, fully intending to jump, before my mother lunged at me and pulled me backward. The rest of the dream consisted of me running from place to place, searching for a means to end my life. I know that the subconscious is usually very symbolic, but this dream seemed rather literal to me.
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I miss Erin. I don’t see her again until January 9th. By then, all my desires to tell her about how I’ve been taking so many steps backward will be overcome by shame and self-disgust.
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“Your emotions are the slaves to your thoughts, and you are the slave to your...”
– Elizabeth Gilbert
