i yelled at a kid today because the way he was treating (or should i say mistreating) his dog made me so angry i just snapped. now that i've calmed down a little bit i think i may have overreacted and could have handled it better. he was just a kid and i feel like an abusive asshole. but jfc that poor puppy...
"Have you ever had a dream and suddenly, you realize what's happening doesn't make any sense - and you realize that you're dreaming? And you realize: if you know that you're dreaming, then you can control what's going to happen next? When I have an episode, it's exactly like that - only backwards.
The first time I tried to kill myself, I was ten. When I woke up the next morning, I was relieved. I was happy that I hadn't succeeded. I didn't tell anyone. And for a while, I was happy to be alive. But then, a year later, I tried again. I've lost count of how many times I've tried and failed. I tried to poison myself, overdose on sleeping pills, hang myself, drown myself, suffocate myself, and throw myself into traffic. Now, when I wake up after taking every sleeping pill in arm's reach and washing it down with a bottle of wine, I'm never, ever relieved. I feel trapped. I feel desperate. I feel like even more of a failure. And I have even wondered if the reason that I can't kill myself is because I'm already dead and in Hell. This is a living Hell. They say suicide is "taking the easy way out". Let me tell you: It's not that fucking easy. Your physical drive to live undermines your mind's desire to die. Your instincts to breathe are hard to overcome. You can't bear another second of misery - but your heart just refuses to stop beating. It has some nerve.
It's hard to tell the people I love that I want to die. So I spend a lot of my time and energy pretending to be normal. When I ended up in the hospital, it was almost a relief. Because I didn't have to act for anyone, anymore. I just cried all day. And no one took it personally. No one wanted to blame themselves. I could cry, and it didn't hurt anyone's feeling. The honesty was refreshing.
But then, I started to look at the other patients around me. I was surrounded by people who had been miserable their entire lives. There was an eighty-year-old woman there, who had been in and out of psych wards since she was my age. She stared into space all day, crying. And every day, she would look at me, and ask, "Why won't they just let me die?" And I didn't have an answer. And I realized: That was my future. I understood with perfect clarity that I was never going to get better. No therapy can help me. No medication can fix me. I can make everyone think I'm normal, that I'm coping, that I'm okay. But I've never been okay. I'll never be okay. I will always be one bad day away from killing myself. Until I'm dead. I spend my life trying to delay what I know is inevitable. And any day could be my last."
Wow, po prostu wow, kiedy juz myslalam, ze wreszcie cos zaczyna sie ukladac, ze gdzies tam swiat jest chociaz odrobinke sprawiedliwy, wszystko trafia szlag. Super. Bardzo sie ciesze, ze znowu wyszlam na frajerke. Brakowalo mi tego. Teraz jeszcze musze wysluchiwac, ze to w sumie moja wina, bo jestem naiwna. Sorry, zapomnialam, ze uczciwosc to niewybaczalny grzech i najwieksza wada. Wiec wlasciwie sama sobie na to zasluzylam, nie?
it was so lovely, wasn't it? some scenes were a little bit too much and i'm not sure i liked the ending but overall it was wonderful. can't wait for next sunday!
dorky
hopeful
lazy
bitchy
disappointed
sad
surprised