So, I feel like shit. Suicidally like shit. And I'm too much of a chicken to do anything about it. Or I'm too apathetic. Or lazy. Whatever the reason, I'm still here whining instead of going through with it.
I told two different mental health professionals today that I was feeling suicidal. And neither one did anything about it. Is that normal? I guess they think I need to be in charge of my own life or lack of it? Which I guess is correct. If I want to die, that's my prerogative and responsibility. I guess I was hoping somebody would care and help me. But they haven't.
Which falls in line with what I have learned in the past 3 months. Only I am responsible for me. I can't count on anyone else to care. So if I want to die, then I should do it.
I cut a few times today. It helped a little. But not enough. I am proud I didn't use though. So hell, I'll die clean.
So, how am I going to do it? Lately I've been envisioning slicing my wrists and bleeding to death. I don't think it would hurt that badly and wouldn't make that much of a mess. But after reading about Elliot Smith, I've been thinking about sticking a knife in my chest. That is how his girlfriend found him- with a knife protruding from his chest.
I could do it with my Swiss army knife, it is sharp as hell, but probably not long enough. I have to hit my heart or the aorta, otherwise I won't bleed out and die quickly.
Or I could go the wussy way and take pills. But I don't want to be puking while I'm dying. We'll see.
Why do I just keep thinking about it and not doing it? Why? Why can't I decide once and for all and get it over with? Or, why can't I decide I want to live and keep going? I just keep swinging from complete apathy to suicidal depression. I can't keep steady.
I am really, really, really angry at Dr. J and Cheryl, I just realized this. They both blew me off. It does seem weird. This is the first time I've felt this badly in my life, and none of the mental health professionals I'm seeing seem to give a shit. Do I not sound sincere? Am I that annoying? I guess I'm still just looking for external validation, for external help when I should just be taking care of myself.
So on to taking care of myself- I need to get busy living or get busy dying. Dying it will be. A hotel room and some razors this weekend. Why on the weekend? I'm not sure, but that's when. This Saturday.
I wish I could figure out a way to make a case for continuing my life. But I can't. I'm just wasting space, resources and time that could be better spent on other people. I am in the way and I am useless. If I don't want this life, then I should get the fuck out of the way. People could use the water, food and air I'm using up on this wasted, self-centered, whiny, bullshit life I'm living.
I am not anything and I need to accept it and follow through. Goodnight.
I told two different mental health professionals today that I was feeling suicidal. And neither one did anything about it. Is that normal? I guess they think I need to be in charge of my own life or lack of it? Which I guess is correct. If I want to die, that's my prerogative and responsibility. I guess I was hoping somebody would care and help me. But they haven't.
Which falls in line with what I have learned in the past 3 months. Only I am responsible for me. I can't count on anyone else to care. So if I want to die, then I should do it.
I cut a few times today. It helped a little. But not enough. I am proud I didn't use though. So hell, I'll die clean.
So, how am I going to do it? Lately I've been envisioning slicing my wrists and bleeding to death. I don't think it would hurt that badly and wouldn't make that much of a mess. But after reading about Elliot Smith, I've been thinking about sticking a knife in my chest. That is how his girlfriend found him- with a knife protruding from his chest.
I could do it with my Swiss army knife, it is sharp as hell, but probably not long enough. I have to hit my heart or the aorta, otherwise I won't bleed out and die quickly.
Or I could go the wussy way and take pills. But I don't want to be puking while I'm dying. We'll see.
Why do I just keep thinking about it and not doing it? Why? Why can't I decide once and for all and get it over with? Or, why can't I decide I want to live and keep going? I just keep swinging from complete apathy to suicidal depression. I can't keep steady.
I am really, really, really angry at Dr. J and Cheryl, I just realized this. They both blew me off. It does seem weird. This is the first time I've felt this badly in my life, and none of the mental health professionals I'm seeing seem to give a shit. Do I not sound sincere? Am I that annoying? I guess I'm still just looking for external validation, for external help when I should just be taking care of myself.
So on to taking care of myself- I need to get busy living or get busy dying. Dying it will be. A hotel room and some razors this weekend. Why on the weekend? I'm not sure, but that's when. This Saturday.
I wish I could figure out a way to make a case for continuing my life. But I can't. I'm just wasting space, resources and time that could be better spent on other people. I am in the way and I am useless. If I don't want this life, then I should get the fuck out of the way. People could use the water, food and air I'm using up on this wasted, self-centered, whiny, bullshit life I'm living.
I am not anything and I need to accept it and follow through. Goodnight.
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