Searching for Safety

Well here I am. Back in the slumps. I really want to say “Fuck you meds” but I know that’s not the answer. I need to go to therapy but I’m furious with them. I wish I didn’t have a reason to be here so I could go back to the hospital. I’m holding so much crazy inside it’s indescribable.

I don’t even know what’s going on and why this is happening. Maybe it’s my relationship. I’m so terrified I’m going to fuck everything up. He will leave me. He won’t tolerate my symptoms and that will be it. Just like usual. He says he loves me more than anything but I can’t even imagine that.

I’m feeling suicidal right now. I want to self harm, die, disappear, anything. I want to be safe 😦 Where is safety? There’s no way to get away from me.

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Mixed Bag of Thoughts and Happenings

So I realized I never talked about my breakup. It was the lack of attention that did it. I met my current boyfriend and even as just friends sharing a common interest, I got more attention from him than my boyfriend. It quickly made me realize that I needed more than what my boyfriend was able to give for a few reasons. And so we broke up.

Quickly after that, my boyfriend and I decided to make it official and then came the relationship and moving in. FAST but it’s what I felt inside to do.

Things have been rocky with his job and today he was supposed to work. He drove the whole way there only to receive a text message that she couldn’t show up for him to work because her dog was sick and she was still at the vet. He waited for about an hour just in case, but nothing.

Now he is pretty upset and not himself. I’m taking on his emotions because I don’t know how not to and because I care about him.

Aside from that, I found out about two days ago that I can no longer take my Abilify. Abilify was my saving grace. Took away my psychotic symptoms and really made me do noticeably better. Well they came out with a generic brand which my insurance barely covers and if I choose to stick with the real stuff, I have to pay a penalty each time I get it and the costs are too much.

I cut the rest of my pills in half hoping it will sort of wean me off, but I’m very scared about stopping it. I went through withdraw from it before and it was not fun. I’m mostly worried about how I will be. Did my progress happen because of therapy? Which I happened to miss last week and never rescheduled for this week. I called them last night and left a voicemail for a return call to see if they had openings today and NO ONE has called me back. So fuck them. Anyway, was my progress from therapy or the meds.

Will I be crazy again? Am I look at self harming again? Laying on the bathroom floor or in the laundry room bawling my eyes out and trying to keep from killing or hurting myself? I don’t want that life again. I don’t want those feelings anymore. I can’t handle that and I’m not sure my boyfriend can either.

Thanks for reading, if you made it this far.

Hostage

I am convinced. I will never get better. Meds or no meds. It’s here. It lives in me and it doesn’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, if ever.

I met a new guy and it’s moving fast and I like it. He moved in today. I don’t give a shit about anyone’s judgments about how fast it’s happening so keep your comments to yourself.

I already feel my symptoms coming up. I’m tired of my kids. I’m tired of everything. I feel invisible and empty and not good enough for anything. I look around at all these people being alive and living and I feel like I’m trying so hard to be alive too but I don’t know how. So I’m just this invisible empty shell.

I hate life. I want to die. Fuck therapy. I went tonight and we laughed and stuff but just fuck it. I’m alone.

I wish life would take me like it took my dad.

Please take me.

Please.