Desperation Confessions

Is the world crazy? I went to the doc yesterday. I have a horrible disease. No immune system. Getting out around people who won’t wear masks or stay back 6 feet.
So I go in & try to be pleasant. My nurses were talking about wanting survival bunkers. I think the capital riots scared them. I tried to be funny. Didn’t work.
So I told them how to get a safe room built in their house. They start talking about survival gear & stuff. Really? Nurses.
Good grief. I’m there to see if I’m going to live a little longer. Hope I don’t get Covid.
I tried to humor them. They were so serious. I tried to make a joke. I said you can even put guns in your safety room. Potato guns. Water guns. They were not amused. Are people seriously under the illusion it’s that bad?
Our media on each side needs to quit exaggerating things. My nurses were African American. I’m mixed. All of this exaggerating how serious the small capital riot was is freaking out the left. Worrying about new taxes & socialism is freaking out the right.
We’re all broke. All trying to dodge the mask-less morons.
I got horrible news from my doc. I have no one to tell. I contemplated telling my ex; but she got even worse news recently. Dear Lord. I’ve got a disabled child so sick he can barely walk. Uuugghh.
I went out of the house in massive pain. I have no $. No running car. No home. I try to be pleasant. I don’t want to hear about potential civil war when I goto the doc. People need to relax. This pandemic only beats us if we let it. The Chinese Gov; not their people; the government sucks.

#desperation  

I’m 24 years old. A week ago I got prescribed temazepam (a benzodiazepine) because I often have trouble sleeping at night. Two days ago I went to the pharmacy and picked up my prescription. That night I took all of the pills in the container (30 pills). I did it to escape reality, but in retrospect, I did it in the hope that I wouldn’t wake up after I went to sleep. I often consciously idealize suicide but never expected myself to (sub)consciously engage in an attempt to realize that idealization.

The day after I stumbled around, still numb and dozing off due to the anxiolytic effects of the drug, and my dad came to me in my room, whilst I was crying my heart out, releasing all the emotions that I carry with me silently, never allowing myself to show that very dark, sinister side of me.

I tried to end it all taking the easy route. The strength to carry on the fight left me that night. And so I, in some kind of desperate hope to end my nonsensical existence, I tried to overdose. I’m not a woman, but the lyrics describe my current state of being… “I don’t know what she’s doing now… last I heard from her she said… she felt as if she should be dead… I guess in fact, she usually does.”



Please, if you are hesitating to leave a comment, don't hold back. I want acknowledgment, whether you condemn me, feel empathy, consider me as stupid or encourage me to try again. I reach out in anguish, anonymously.

#pain   #desperation