Twelve months ago today I carried a bag full of pills into a park, I didn’t intend to go home. Today I feel down, yesterday I felt down, and the day before, tomorrow I expect I will feel the same.
I went to my doctor last week and he gave me some new tablets to take, so I now take two types of antidepressant, how depressing. I’m feeling a little bit like “why am I bothering?”. The cycle is just gonna keep going around, I’ll feel a bit better, distract myself with whatever, but then I will always come back round to just how much of a balls-up my life is.
I deserve all I get, I have made so many mistakes. At what point do you have to stop calling them mistakes ?, the choices were mine to make and I made the wrong ones, so are they really mistakes ? Hopefully now I will stop making bad choices and not fuck up my life any more than I already have.
I do however need to face the consequences of my actions, and I know now that this cycle of depression, and anxiety, is going to continue. I don’t think there will ever come a point where I will find peace.
My anxiety is sky high right now, I have so much going on in my head, fear of the past, fear of the future, a sense a dread is still with me all the time right now. I’m stressed about everything, absolutely everything is winding me up, even the smallest things seem huge.
I’m waffling, I know that, but I need to waffle right now. I have such a mess in my head I need to put some of it into words.
I’m not sure where to go from here, part of me wants to go to sleep and just not wake up tomorrow, that would be so much easier. But no, I don’t want to hurt myself, not like before, I’m not putting packets of tablets in a carrier bag or any of the other things I did. I don’t want to get to that point, I’m just scared that point is not so hard to get to.