I travel back…

Over the time… I’ve made acquaintances on my hospitalizations.

We always say we’ll contact each other, never will.

Must be the fact that everyone exits and in a while receive the shock of reality.

Not that fucked up dazed and confused bubble in which they had us.

I see a photo of a guy I met in my last hospitalization.

He read while I read, he studies psychology, he’s a geek.

I fucking liked him since I saw him.

Anyways… I’m fucking nuts, that’s why I’m there.

So I try to hide my crazy self from him as much as I can.

I don’t know how much he saw.

He left about 5 days before me.

I, being fucking nuts, remember imagining him holding me in bed and taking turns in holding each other.

Fuck that shit.

I’m a psycho, ignore that.

I left the hospital… desperate about contacting him.

We exchanged a few words.

Now every time I see him on Facebook I just think about the time we met, when I still had expectations of the hospitalization to work.

“Maybe this will be the time they fix me.”

And I just cry.

Live Through This – a Project (Link)

Live Through This  <—-

I found this webpage… I don’t remember how.

It has stories of survivors of suicide attempts.

They tell their story about how the became suicidal and what happened after the suicide attempt.

This was great. I saw people that had tried to commit suicide and how the felt afterwards.

The obstacles, the loneliness, the depression, having to hide mental illness.

It made me think that all of this… can be in my past.

Maybe there is a way to… not overcome this… but put it behind and not listening to these thoughts.

 

Trying ?

I keep trying.

I go out.

I fucking socialize… in some way.

But really… after all these years of trying to fit in… in any circle, and not being able to.

I fucking… just give up.

Went to the selling waters with flowers and flavor and I don’t know what the fuck.

Didn’t even bother to make a conversation with anyone.

I know a couple of them from before…

But I just know it will be awkward, that I just save us both the trouble.

This is what I see in my head.

What other people see is someone that must be either very stoned or have taken too much shrooms in her life.

I want to meet new people, I want friends.

I’m just fucking tired of trying so hard and it never works.

So… mostly I stared at one random spot for a couple of minutes and turned to another.

After a while I went drinking… what else can one do ?

The day felt as depressing and shit as before.

Fun.

This living stuff is so fucking fun.

Fun.

Can’t wait for tomorrow… (no sarcasm whatsoever.)

Smile.

Woah, the interface changed.
Oh, no… Changes !

I’ve been going out…
To the bank and to get food.
I had no option.
But at least I’m exiting the room.
.
If it were as easy as having a serious face/bitch face to get my face to smile.
I wonder how many things would change.
I woke up feeling… how can I explain it… not caring what the fuck happened.
Didn’t even feel like moving or doing anything.
I feel something between numb and pissed off.
Depakote still keeps most of my tears in their place.
Still there have been moments I get out of it and feel so horrible that I’ve had to hurt myself to stop the pain.
.
So… to not let my mind wonder, I’ve been reading.
I’m pumped with reading 25 books this year.
I’m finally in my 10th book.
Recently finished Fahrenheit 451, Candy and Beautiful Disaster.
Started Hell House yesterday.
I’m trying to mix the genres I read, so I don’t get stuck in the same.
But.
I want the fucking books !
I have the e-books.
I need to touch them.
-pets books-
Getting them is more money so I stick to e-books.
.
I have yet to call the Online Colleges so they give me information on how much I’d have to pay to study online… and what economic help I’d be getting.
They keep calling me… and I keep ignoring the calls.
I get so fucking anxious, not only it’s going to be disappointing because I know it is a lot of money… and I was going to University without having to pay, but there is the fact that I have to speak English.
I fucking suck at speaking English… my tongue gets twisted and it’s a mess.
Too much fucking anxiety.
I’m anxious all the time and I don’t even know why.
Called the psychiatrist and they didn’t answer.
.
I’m having some fucking very vivid dreams.
Situations that could happen.
I actually don’t know which have really happened and which ones have been dreams.
It’s freaking me out.
.
Mostly I’m just feeling neutral and am just… dragging myself to do shit.
No drive to do anything whatsoever.
Besides smoking.

.

Long weird rant.

The Arms of Sorrow.

I achieved going out of my house.
Also, I sold some water with watermelon and I don’t know what shit.
I made 12 dollars… which is a fucking lot for what I had… which was one dollar.
Anyways I drank it all after the activity.
It was a chill activity.
I can see myself going there every week (they sell organic food every Thursday)
People are very friendly and small talk to one.
I like it.
Socializing in some way, we all go after selling the food to drink.
We all drink the money we made.
.
I say we… yeah right.
.
Whatever.
I was able to be on my own and handle the situation.
Awkward shit happened and I was able to handle it.
Of course… I took three 2mg Klonos.
.
I think I’ll be helping future Thursdays.
If they need me ?
.
Something to do… going outside.
I fucking am getting agoraphobic… I’ve been too much time in my room and I’ve made it my safe zone, which I don’t want to exit.
.
I fucking tried getting my housemate… and friend ?… to hang out with me.
She decided to sleep at 10 pm or earlier.
This is the person that never sleeps.
I fucking want to fucking… whatever.
.
I’m tired.
And shit keeps coming out of my mouth.
I always seem to know what inappropriate thing to say.
.
I fucking hate all this hate I have in me.
Even with Depakote I achieve to cry.
I need a higher dose.
I want to feel nothing.
Maybe the dying part will come faster?
.
Hah, never.
I’ll die when I least expect it.
That’s the fucking fun part of it… right ?
.
I wish I would just fucking drop dead.
I’m fucking crying while drunk.
You have to be a special sad fuck to achieve this.
.
Depression: Still there.
Crying: Controlled by Depakote.
Friends: …
.
I’m tired of existence.
Hanging.
Hanging by a thread.
A thread I made myself.

What is real and what my mind deciphers.

I finally told my best friend about me knowing she wanted to talk to me the less possible around the time of my suicide attempt.

She said it wasn’t true.

Then I continued telling her how I should separate myself from anyone I know… before they leave me.

I tell her how my negativism is a harm to others.

She once told me that I was part of what made her depressed during high-school.

The first thing they say, to have a better life, is to get the negative people out of your life.

That would be me.

All this conversation via text messages… well, because talking on the phone is harder ?

I just don’t know what to think anymore.

I feel people want to get away from me… like it has happened a lot of time with other close friends.

Is it me ? Is it my irrational thinking ? Is it true ?


So… I’m pretty agoraphobic now.

I have to take a lot of Klonos to go out.

I have to take Klonos to go to Yoga class… wtf.

I started crying again.

I want the numbness again !

I want !

I don’t want to cry.

I’m breaking.

I’m falling.