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Rock Bottom or Endless Black Abyss?

I almost commited suicide. I say almost because well I didn't attempt it. Therefor its not attempted suicide. I didn't swallow all the pills or cut myself too deep. I texed my gran to take the pills away. She says I am at rock bottom, but truthfully, i'm spiralling out of control deeper and deeper into the black abyss. Wishing for death. I have thought of nothing else for the past two days. I hate the look people give you when you look like your somewhere else. The way people pretend they were always there once the "truth" is revealed. Or the question in there eyes: She's depressed, I wonder what caused it? Why the fuck does it matter what makes me feel this way! So shit happened in my past but I don't even think about it until you bring it up! Thanks for the reminder!!

They love me and they are here for me. Thats what they say. Truthfully though I have never felt as far away from civilisation than right now. I have locked myself in my room barking "I'm fine" when theres a knock at the door. Yet at the same time begging someone to come and save me. Pathetic I know. I ignore the phone calls and constant texts. I want the darkness, but I can't sleep. I deleted all social media and games from my devices. I blast music in my ears but I don't hear it. Can't take it in, like I am just an essence of a creature. I don't deserve to be classed as human. Not to mention I have barely any food. Can I starve rather than face people? Why do I have to be so greedy and feel like I need food!!

So Yay! They changed my medication. The hope that this is the cure for my illness. If not there's another pill they can try!  Does it even count as an illness? I feel like a fraud saying that it does. "Do you want me to get you sectioned?" In Scotland this means you want me to take you to the hospital. I battle with myself on answering that one question. Yes! No! Well maybe....! I DON'T KNOW!!!! FUCK!  Do I actually need help? There's nothing anyone can do. I have shrunk into my own head and people want me to think about tomorrow. Please I can't even think through the next hour, I'm being generous! Doesn't help that the scissors I own have less sharpness than a fucking steak. Not the vampire kind, the meat!

The reason my food stock in my room is so low you ask? Well I binged last night. The things we do to try and feel some fragment of joy, peace, happiness or any kind of emotion. So with the binge comes the purge. Had to do it twice so I could pretend I was sick rather than let anyone know I'm a failure of a human being. Those scissors I mentioned, turns out if you score yourself long and hard enough you get like burns with a small paper cut on top of it. Yupp I know that's not good enough. I have razor blades somehwhere.... My therapist says I do this as a release and gave me other 'methods' to use. Hit a bat against a pile of cushions. Scream into my pillow. Go to the gym and hit a punch bag. Find a place that hold water and throw rock into it. Write.  Is she fucking serious? What a load of bullshit! I have tried everyone of those suggestions! And it's safe to say yeah you might feel physically exhausted. You might feel like you have done something. But nothing compares to the calm of watching the contents of your stomach swim in the pan, or watching blood swell on your latest cut.

I don't do this all the time. I am not a seriel self-harmer. Again just another fraud when people actually have problems. I wrote the people in my life letters for after I am gone. I downloaded and created a cd that I wanted played at whatever they chose to do with my body, be it funeral or cremation. I can't believe I got scared! Not even for me, but my sister! I didn't want her to fall off the edge and get stuck in this abyss. Or follow me into the unknown. Whatever the reason is, I'm not a coward yet a coward at the same time. The path into the unknown is an easier journey but people say its a cowards choice. If you don't do it your a coward for being too chicken. My family think I have chosen a path to stay here. Truthfully I have no idea if I have chosen anything yet.

So I will end this how it began. I almost commited suicide, because like I explained attempted suicide are for those people who actually take the plunge. So I know they are not the same thing but I just have to ask: What's worse. Almost or Attempted. Are they equally as bad. Do you have to actually wait until you Attempt before you seek proffesional medical help?

Just Wondering

Curious Suicidal Creature



Have I Turned A Corner? Nah more like a roller-coaster and I'm stuck on it.

I recently found a podcast called: The Mental Illness Happy Hour. I can not believe how much I took to it, the honesty and the reality that they are so many others experiencing the same thing as me! My doctor has also doubled my doze of anti-depressants and it seems to have worked. I talk a lot more and have let myself feel things I never allowed my self to! It feels good that people are noticing a difference in me! So why do I still feel isolated? No matter how much I talk or feel theres a part of me that hates everything. 

Does everyone have these feelings deep in their thoughts? If I have changed as much as everyone says, then why do I still have the need to imagine myself dead every single day.

Looking at the words on this screen and want to delete it, but hey  who even cares!

Secrets. Hate. Death.

I'm not a person that usually displays any kind of emotion. Better to just push it down. However after a recent councilling session, I had a major breakdown with emotion. And when you bottle something up for so long theres a lot of it. During this breakdown I wanted to die. Really just end my life and let it be over. I was sick of hiding the truth to everybody. I tried to get support online but I couldn't see the point in it. I didn't want help. I wanted complete and utter silence, I wanted death. But somehow I managed to survive the night and woke up remembring how stupid I was for letting emotion out. How everything was my fault.

You see I had only partly shared with my gran and councillor what had happened to me in the past. I say partly because I had more than one abuser. So I only told them about one. I got the help that they thought I needed and faked my way through every session I had. I kept the secret for years, I wasn't going to let it go easily. But it was eating me alive. All my focus was not on living, but to hide the truth so my family wouldn't be torn apart. I couldn't tell anyone, so I shut down my emotions and simply lived to be there when people needed someone to talk to. The thing about being a good listener is you don't need talk. People don't want you to. So that cover worked. Did I like it? It took my mind off my own problems for a while.

So that night I cried, wanted to die and somehow managed to survived. I lay in bed until I knew if I didn't show face, my gran would know something was up. So I put on one of my many faces and went downstairs for food. I ate and answered every question without problem. But when I said I was going back upstairs, my gran knew something was up straight away. I had failed, there was cracks in my performance and that was all she needed. I don't know if I was fragile after my breakdown but I couldn't hold my character. I fell apart. Finally somebody noticed. It took them years and partial truths, but finally someone saw through my performances. And I cracked. I let the truth slip out. I lost the only secret I swore to myself I would never say out loud. I failed myself.

Not only did I reveal my secret, I showed emotion in front of someone. Something I never allowed myself to do. I deserved to die for what I had done. But my gran was supportive. She said that for victims of sexual abuse its essential that they get some control back because we never had it before. That what happened to me wasn't my fault and it would never make her feel any differently towards me. I still can't help thinking I ruined her family. I told her that her oldest grandson abused her oldest granddaughter. She would never treat him the same again. There was no perfect image anymore.

So finally I have no more secrets. I'm all out. The consequence for it, the possibility of being betrayed and one secret ruining the family image. No longer being able to trust the one person who finally noticed. I am not the youngest in the family and I can't live with the guilt that me holding on to this secret may have hurt others. That I may have been able to stop it. I don't know if he did, I never want to know. I want to forget it. But I can't, so I have to deal with it.

I want to leave now. I don't want to be responsible for their sympathetic eyes and the constant "are you ok" questions. I'm fed up being there for people who only use you when they think their life is shit, and ditch you when it was all just a mis understanding. I hate the world and for the people who put me in it. I can't help but hate the people who didn't notice for years. The people who were suppose to protect me. They say I am just depressed and the medicine will take a while to work! Maybe I am depressed, but I don't care. It's a punishment for letting myself feel. I don't know what's best for me anymore. I have never had a better. So its damn near impossible to believe that time makes any difference.


Last time I couldnt deal with my anger, well that hasn't changed! I have been so busy trying to push every emotion down all my life and only now are people telling me its ok to show emotion. My view of the world was pretty simple. Don't think, don't feel and you might just survive. Well I am not surviving. Maybe my view on the world was misguided and from a less mature person than I am now. Who cares anyway. Not me. I like feeling lost.  Not having a purpose used to eat me up, but now I could just gradually disappear. Leave everything and just drive away, start fresh. Is that just a fairytale I am telling myself?

How do you let it out?

Okay so the question that has plagued my mind this past week is: How do "normal" people display emotion? I can't let any of mine out! I keep them locked in my head until something else decides to pop up!  Bottle everything up so I don't let my tough exterior crack.

And I am not by any means tough! I just wear that face with everyone because thats what I think they need. But I am used to feeling low, being depressed! What I am feeling recently is anger. And I have no idea how to get rid of it. I'm not used to it in this intensity. Theres so much of of it. When I am really low I don't have the guts to hurt myself, but with anger I think I am capable of anything.

I guess I need to understand how to let it out! I push everything down, even happy feelings because I don't want the bad. But that's not working now.

Can anyone help??

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