Sunday 10 April 2011

Seven

I can't do this, I just can't! Everything is too heavy, too hard. I can't cope. I feel too overwhelmed by everything, big or small. On top of all this rubbish that I think and feel, life itself is too difficult. I wonder how people do it? I'm just not equipped for this world. I can feel myself inside the pain and hurt. I feel giving up inclosing on me like a big, black, heavy cloud that I see no way out of... I want to be dead. I want it to all be over with. I want it to stop DAMN IT! I can't function, I just can't. I feel weak and childlike under the pressures of all this. Where do I go? What do I do? How can I possibly handle it all? I am only one excuse for a person, my shoulders are not wide enough or strong enough to carry the load. I feel like 'that's it! I'm done!'. So what do I do then? Options - Get this over and done with once and for all, or tell the nurses? I'm too confused. My brain is racing like 100 miles a minute! I just don't know the answer. I need help... well I guess that much is obvious. I'm just don't think I'm worth the effort. Am I already to far gone? I mean I'm already 24, wow I feel old, and I've wasted over half my life on all this! I'm being slowly killed from the inside out and it's like ENOUGH is ENOUGH already! You know what I mean. I'm trying to take deep stomach breaths and trying to decifer the racing thoughts. It just doen't seem to be working. I want to put my arms in the air and scream at the top of my lungs "STOP IT, GET OUT OF ME!!!" But deep down I know that this will not work... nothing seems to work. I'm a wrecked unit. Come on, make a decision. You know you already have. So whats the plan then? My plan is to hang myself in the bathroom or on the temporary fence panels outside at night preferably. Backup plan is to somehow suffocate my self with say a plastic bag or stab myself with something. Plan A seems like a more done deal. I could do it, I think about it over and over. My only worry is the people that could be potentially hurt. I think about these people dearly, but deep down inside, I feel that these people would be better off without me in their lives. AAAHHHH! I'm such a screwup. You know I very often think about death and self-harm, I know your supprised right, but death wins hands down. I wonder that maybe, just maybe I could get my hands on something sharp so I could cut myself slowly. I could watch all the lucious blood dripping then pouring out of me. I ruminate over the options. But it seem that I have sort of grown out of self harming a little bit, but don't get me wrong if I had the option I would be damn well doing it. But I guess what I'm trying to say is that self-harming to me has become sort of like toying with painful, less deathlike ideas. I've always liked to see myself bleed and I guess after a while it becomes like a strange sort of addiction. Like the answer to everything is 'I can't cope, quick get the knife, saw, bit of steele'. As you cut into the skin you can nearly hear and feel a type of ripping as it cuts through slowly, layer by layer. The pain was there, how much will you endure this time? I feel I am no good and deserve every bit of it! The usual process is that I seemed to get extremely down. Crying and/or pacing around, or huddled in a dark corner of the floor. This gos on for a while and then something really strange happens. I go into a numb-like state...that's when, in my mind and in my heart, suicide seems like the only option. Except lately, I haven't seemed to be able to cry because I feel my medication has not allowed me to and the tough exterior of my inner defences trying to shut everything in. So, I don't have to deal with the hurt and suffering. But we all know that the problems only grow and become bigger and more complicated. You get the 'problem' and then that 'problem' starts to slowly effect other parts of your life until it has poisened almost every part of your tree of life. The trouble these days is that I seem to dodge the middle man and go straight onward. Therefore my brain kicks straight into 'death mode' with my confused, overwhelming feeling in which case "danger, danger will robinson!" Each time it feels uncontrollable and uncontainable. It's like I'm in a fight with myself. There's more than to sides to a dice so which part is the 'real me?' I don't know and I haven't for a long, long time. But what I do know is that I don't want to do this anymore. As all this spins round and round, I feel the day I will die is getting nearer and nearer. But I suppose that in this moment I will ask the nurses if they can help me in someway... I just can't see how. The repetative voice in my mind says, "what's the point?". Along with my heart pounding like it were on a texas cactus, aching and begging for it to all stop. 

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