I'm finally getting better.
I never realized how rewarding and wonderful recovery could feel but here I am.
I overdosed again and went into inpatient.
Had to get 14 stitches because of my self harm and I pulled them out while I was on suicide watch.
Finally I'm getting stable enough to realize exactly how sick I was/am and I'm so ready to change.
Bring on happiness I am beyond done with this misery.
Fuck being sick.
Fuck being incompetent and codependent.
I'm going to have my own life with all kinds of ups and downs.
Recovery will be the hardest thing I've ever had to experience but it's so so worth it.
For once I'm not going to sit by and let my life pass me by.
I'm going to live a full life and I'm going to be okay.
I'm going to learn how to love myself.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Monday, February 10, 2014
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
I'm still debating on trying to kill myself tomorrow.
Everyone would be angry considering my IOP therapist tried to have me evaluated for inpatient today.
For about four hours I sat in the ER telling everyone I was fine no they didn't have to worry nothing is wrong.
All I really want to do is overdose on oxy or percocets.
I would even take heroin at this point but I'm pretty sure the only person I could get it from would flip his fucking shit if I told him that.
My Dad is fed up with me and is searching for mental health residential inpatient treatment centers.
He doesn't want me here anymore and it's gotten to the point that he wants to kick me out.
Mom isn't really too happy with me either.
Not that I blame them I've been quite fucking awful as of late.
I'm just getting worse.
My weight is somewhere between 126-138 but I haven't weighed myself in a while.
I don't really want to I'm afraid I'm just going to get more upset with myself.
Everything just kind of went to shit and I don't have the energy to try anymore.
Tired and fucked up.
Don't want to be me anymore.
Everyone would be angry considering my IOP therapist tried to have me evaluated for inpatient today.
For about four hours I sat in the ER telling everyone I was fine no they didn't have to worry nothing is wrong.
All I really want to do is overdose on oxy or percocets.
I would even take heroin at this point but I'm pretty sure the only person I could get it from would flip his fucking shit if I told him that.
My Dad is fed up with me and is searching for mental health residential inpatient treatment centers.
He doesn't want me here anymore and it's gotten to the point that he wants to kick me out.
Mom isn't really too happy with me either.
Not that I blame them I've been quite fucking awful as of late.
I'm just getting worse.
My weight is somewhere between 126-138 but I haven't weighed myself in a while.
I don't really want to I'm afraid I'm just going to get more upset with myself.
Everything just kind of went to shit and I don't have the energy to try anymore.
Tired and fucked up.
Don't want to be me anymore.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Saturday, November 30, 2013
When I die set me free
I think it's safe to say I'm actively ruining my life bit by bit.
Talked to my mom twenty minutes ago and I told her I'm not ready for college.
She told me it's fine she'd talk to Dad and she said I'll just wait until fall to register for classes.
Like it's that easy and this doesn't mean I've failed her again.
I'm fucking everything up.
A year from now if I'm not dead or hospitalized I will be sitting in this same room in this exact spot blogging about how much I want to die but too guilty to do anything about it.
When I was at least entertaining the notion of going to college next semester I felt like I was getting somewhere or trying to so it counted for something.
Now I'm just this pathetic sack of shit feeling sorry for myself.
I've fucked up so badly.
All I want to do is die.
I can't even pretend to be okay anymore I'm just done.
I've been snorting my oxy.
Not often because it hurts like a bitch but I promised myself it wouldn't get this bad.
I'm almost out of pills though so it's not like it matters.
That bottle had sixty days worth of oxy in it and I went through it in what eighteen?
I'm hurting Lukas with all my talk of suicide and substance abuse.
I hate myself for it.
He deserves better.
I wish I could be better but I can't so I give the fuck up.
Maybe I'll get into a fatal car accident or something and stop ruining everyone's lives.
Wouldn't that just be wonderful?
I'll put it on my Christmas list.
Talked to my mom twenty minutes ago and I told her I'm not ready for college.
She told me it's fine she'd talk to Dad and she said I'll just wait until fall to register for classes.
Like it's that easy and this doesn't mean I've failed her again.
I'm fucking everything up.
A year from now if I'm not dead or hospitalized I will be sitting in this same room in this exact spot blogging about how much I want to die but too guilty to do anything about it.
When I was at least entertaining the notion of going to college next semester I felt like I was getting somewhere or trying to so it counted for something.
Now I'm just this pathetic sack of shit feeling sorry for myself.
I've fucked up so badly.
All I want to do is die.
I can't even pretend to be okay anymore I'm just done.
I've been snorting my oxy.
Not often because it hurts like a bitch but I promised myself it wouldn't get this bad.
I'm almost out of pills though so it's not like it matters.
That bottle had sixty days worth of oxy in it and I went through it in what eighteen?
I'm hurting Lukas with all my talk of suicide and substance abuse.
I hate myself for it.
He deserves better.
I wish I could be better but I can't so I give the fuck up.
Maybe I'll get into a fatal car accident or something and stop ruining everyone's lives.
Wouldn't that just be wonderful?
I'll put it on my Christmas list.
Giving up
Lately I've been finding triggers in everything.
Nothing that anyone says or does makes me feel better.
My arms are looking more and more like ugly blank canvases mocking me for not having the courage to carve them into art.
Everything feels that way to me now.
I cannot stand these faded scars.
Looking at them only makes me want to peel the flesh from my bones.
This is just another way for me to escape my responsibilities.
All of this has always been my cowardly way of saying I'm sorry.
But it just isn't good enough anymore.
None of this will ever be good enough.
I'm done trying.
The energy it would take to even attempt the things that I thought I wanted in life is far greater than I could wish to have.
Since the moment this all occurred to me I've felt like I'm just biding my time.
Breathing but counting every breath until the last wheeze falls from my lips.
This might not make any sense to you.
I guess I should have just said I'm feeling slightly suicidal.
But that wouldn't really cover it.
Nothing that anyone says or does makes me feel better.
My arms are looking more and more like ugly blank canvases mocking me for not having the courage to carve them into art.
Everything feels that way to me now.
I cannot stand these faded scars.
Looking at them only makes me want to peel the flesh from my bones.
This is just another way for me to escape my responsibilities.
All of this has always been my cowardly way of saying I'm sorry.
But it just isn't good enough anymore.
None of this will ever be good enough.
I'm done trying.
The energy it would take to even attempt the things that I thought I wanted in life is far greater than I could wish to have.
Since the moment this all occurred to me I've felt like I'm just biding my time.
Breathing but counting every breath until the last wheeze falls from my lips.
This might not make any sense to you.
I guess I should have just said I'm feeling slightly suicidal.
But that wouldn't really cover it.
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