Boy, wasn't I funner to know when I was a mystery? Pre-blog when you just thought I was a mysterious moody eccentric woman? Back when you didn't know my head was a swirling vortex of inanity?
I am fighting a vicious upswing of suicidal thoughts tonight. The kind that gnaw relentless at me with ideas like, just stop all you medication....eventually the rising thyroid labs will kill you in a very, very unpleasant way...and no one will know you offed yourself.
Not one drop of blood spilled.
Big tears tonight. not the endless weepies, but just profoundly sad ones that roll slowly down my face and I realize, I will never be at peace. I can't be saved. I can't be healed.
I'm a fucked up mess.
My childhood has damaged me. No amount of therapy can undo the very real mental changes that happened. There are no happy pills to erase the damage done to me.
No amount of burning or cutting will excise the wounds from my soul.
I feel like I am free falling....just waiting for the rope to go taunt and snap my neck.
Wind rushing past me.
my life spiraling out of control.
The more pain I am in the worse it gets.
I can only fight one at a time.
My head or my body.
When they both gang up on me, I crumble. I fight internally and bits and pieces of me get snuffed and assassinated.
my husband is not home tonight. Clear on the other side of the state. I need my keeper to come home and hold me. I need to fall asleep in his arms and pretend everything is alright. That life is worth living despite all the madness in it.
Ativan and to bed I go.
Another night wasted and washed away with tears.