I want to die. For a while I’d forgotten what that felt like, I’ve been ok for a while now, getting on towards a year so I must be better right? And yet, I’m not depressed. I score somewhere in mild depression based on various depression questionnaires and most of those points come from suicidal ideation. Back in January, the last time I was down the score was somewhere from moderate to severe and in my blackest times some 18 months to two years ago I scored off the blinking scale. Besides, I know what depression feels like and this isn’t it. Depression is a deep dark fog, it’s moving through treacle, seeing life through different eyes, a constant, burning pressure in the brain. Depression is and this ain’t it. If I’m not depressed, I must therefore be happy. So, why oh why do I feel so much like ending it all?
Life stretches out and it’s long and it’s pointless. What purpose is there to existence? I’m in love, I have a place to read an exciting, stimulating course at university, I have friends and family. But love’s not what I think it should be, I’d do anything to escape the university and the friends never call (not that I’d answer) and the family don’t understand. It’s not that I don’t enjoy things when I can summon up the motivation and when I’m not asleep, which seems to be an increasingly rare occurrence, it’s the thought of time stretching out for so many years and of this being it. Better to stop things now before it all goes too far.
If I hadn’t had a single drink tonight, I’d do something now. However, the first time I tried to kill myself I was mildly intoxicated. I was glued back together and sent out without even a psych consult and certainly no understanding or follow up. It was a genuine attempt and yet it was derided due to the presence of wine (and possibly my very drunk tutor wearing a silly hat in A+E but that’s a story for another day…). I have a wedding to go to on Friday. It’s my cousin getting married and I have nothing whatsoever in common with her and no particular desire to go but I owe it to my family to do the decent thing and pull myself together and pretend it’s all ok which it should be because remember I’m not depressed.
Also, I have my first psych appt in new home place next Wednesday. Woo. I suppose I should give the professionals a chance, not that they’ve prove much so far but maybe this time could be different? *laughs derisively* For now, lets make that my aim. In the shorter term, goodnight. I’m off to zopiclone myself (at prescribed dose only of course 😉 ) to peace.