it’s a endless cycle as far back as I can remember.  


It’s been a couple years since my last attempt, and it’s not like suicide isn’t a daily thought or question (again, as far back as I can remember), but I’ve started to feel more active in follow through plans lately.   


This rinse and repeat existence, is agony.  


And no one gives a shit.  Not really.  And even if someone did, really really did... what could really be done? 

I try to explain to people.  Friends or partner. And they just look at me with such glossy looks or words. 

Meanwhile my brain in on fire!!.  My thoughts are racing and all over. Anything I try to articulate in words is forgotten halfway through, or I keep having to explain the same damn bulletin point that I just give up.  

It’s like someone replaced my blood with some itching powder.  

My thoughts and inner voice are poison. And won’t shut up.  Sometimes they are not even my thoughts or voices.  

I just feel so angry all the time for no reason.  I see myself lash out verbally to those I would furthest want to.  


The stupidest things bring me from 0-60 in nano seconds.  And no matter how much I try to keep my rational and calm part of my mind in charge, it eventually catches fire.   Sadly this doesn’t turn off that part of my mind, no instead this actually converts that part of my head into “evil” version of itself now working with the fire to make sure that not only I am burned up in its blaze, but those around me, with surgically precise words...  

At some point during all this the person I feel I am, is gone.  Sometimes I’ll black out and have no recollection, especially as a child when I was physically abused constantly. 

Other times....  well I experience life in a more third, than first person perspective, but at this point it’s like someone changed the director, and I have to sit in fear, pain, and sadness, as my “favorite” character in the show just destroys and picks apart everything it’s worked hard or made efforts towards.     

Not physically mind you, especially as a adult that people don’t try to physically manage and abuse anymore, but I’m scared shitless of that.  




I’ve tried to get treatment, but not much is offered, accessible, or in a area that’s close enough.  

And let’s face it, I’ve been on medication after medication with little to no help, but the weight gain and other painful side effects seemed to kick in just fine.       Even the doctors I’ve been to have told me given my conditions I will probably only feel “meh” at best, given current treatments available and with all that’s know about mental health.  


Self medication works the most wonders for me, but it’s not legal or accessible everywhere you go, and even so it’s far from affordable, for myself at least.  




The state of the world right now is scary.   Everything in the way of what I would consider progress in equality and understanding is legit in reverse track.  


When I got switched from Medicaid to Medicare in my state, I lost my dental and vision.   If I move to some different states it will be offered, but here where I’m trapped as long as I want to maintain this relationship, I am not allowed to see halfway decent again, or deal with the wisdom teeth that have come in and hurting my mouth and cracking my other tooth into pain like no other physically. 


Im on disability now, and i was found disabled since birth...  but I was in denial despite growing up in residential treatment, Foster, and psych wards...  what does mental illness actually mean to a child? And how was I to view myself as debilitated as I was and am, if I was always expected to be perfect under punishment of physical restraints and endless timeout rooms.  From what I remember with my limited memory, and reading now as a adult the literal thousands of documentation files I had as a child, it’s clear as day people should have advocated me better, protected me better.  Had more patience, understanding, and love... but no...  I had to sit still in a timeout chair for 30 mins for taking during the tv show, and if I got up or figured to much it would be restarted or I would be thrown to the floor and help by three full grown adults to the point I would struggle to breath.  Limbs wrapped and twisted in all manner to their whim.  Even if the trigger incident was non violent.    Even if I was cutting or picking or self abusing.  They would make sure they hurt me more than I could ever hurt myself.  



I remember one time I blew soap bubbles in the shower, having fun... they said I was being self abusive. Restrained me , and sent me to the timeout basement.  

Ah yes the time out basement.  Think a tiny cubical, stiff metal chair, blinders on both sides of your desk so all you would see is a desk and a wall. I can’t recall the paint color, but I remember people carved stuff into, so at least I had that.   This was usually a mandatory hour timeout, and if you had to pee, or heaven forbid you turned your head just once, or had the adhd kickin , the hour would either get restrained, restart, or usually both .  I wasn’t even 10. 

Luckily it wasn’t overnight, so at midnight they usually let you go back to your unit and sleep, only to wake up at 6am to start over again...       at least at that facility.


I don’t think I’ve ever left those places, not really.   



I thought maybe once I grew up, once I was a adult it would get better... I would be a huge success and everything would be fine.   

It wasn’t.  


 I have tried and effectively failed everything from fast food to the military.  


Growing up I was always told that hardwire and dedication pay off, that I was smarter than those around me and had NO EXCUSE to be behaving as I did, NO REASON, to fight back against fully grown men putting their hands on me for whatever whim they had.   (I’m not saying it wasn’t justified at times...  but this was a daily and moment to moment existence)

Turns out that wasn’t true, it doesn’t matter how much you try to do anything if you are defective enough.   And if you fail doing something, most times people don’t care about the energy and effort you put towards success, only that your aren’t. And usually at that point, you are not of use to them, and thus interest.  


If I were not feeling so much a coward I would go kill myself this very second.  I fear dying, and death saddens me on some levels....   but ultimately I realize once I’m past that.  The nothingness will be a peace and home I have never had.  I just won’t know it.  


The same people pushing pro-life, don’t actually want to keep you alive, at least not really alive.   Just alive enough for you to serve them and their interests.  


Now I just kinda sit and wait for the right “wave” of emotional “surf” to hit, in which I can ride it through through with out my silly built in self preservation system getting in the way.  Or maybe I should set a date and just stick with it.  Maybe this time I won’t wake up days later in a psych ward with a sore throat from breathing tubes.... 

I’m just so exhausted and I’ve beaten the dead horse enough thinking it’s going to get better.  

Enough thinking, this next emotionally distant partner will be enough.  

Enough waiting for my government to give a shit.  



I’m sick of the only mental health awareness being some poor blokes meltdown on the evening news.  Of them being villianfied even for the cruelest of acts, when maybe more understanding, kindness , and support from able society could have prevented the incident and the persons suffering to lead to that.. 


That or the Hollywood stereotype of “crazy”. 


Yes I’m crazy, and no I don’t need to go around burning Gotham’s money to be so or prove it....  

It’s stupid that it isn’t taken serious until someone is overwhelmed to the point they freak out, or shoot up a school.   Then it’s just 15 mins of villain fame, and no follow up on helping them, no follow up on mental health as a whole.  It’s forgotten.  Until someone climbs the bell tower again.    Until it’s a political agenda... until it will bring in ratings.  

It sucks because it’s see so much activism in so many areas of inequality and lack of support (which is awesome!), but not for mental health (which is not).  At least not as mainstream.  It’s still a black sheep issue. 




I’m tired of feeling empty


I’m tired of being alone in a crowded room or relationship. 


   I’m just so fucking exhausted, and I get so little sleep. 



I know life isn’t going to get better, and that isn’t ok. 


I know we try to convince ourselves and each other that it will. But I’m not convinced, not for myself...  and others encouragement always falls empty to me, even if well intended. 



All I can hope is that maybe one day all I have left on this issue might help someone else.