*Disclaimer: Before anyone panics and starts to punch in the number for emergency services, I am NOT about to off myself. These are just thoughts, it does not mean I am about to act on them.
First of all, I want to apologize for the negative nature of my posts. I’m finding it harder to keep holding on. Nights are the worst, when I’m left to ponder my own thoughts. I struggle to find reasons to keep living and I realise how truly alone I remain. Last night and again tonight, I took out the stash of pills I’ve come to posess, the leftover prescription medications I had previously taken from the pharmacy. I contemplated swallowing them. I stared them down. With some reluctance, I hid them back into my drawer.
I have four different pills, drug 1, drug 2, drug 3, drug 4. The last time, I took drug 1,2 and 3 and slept for a good eighteen hours and woke up feeling dizzy and nauseous. Compare it to what I took two months ago, I have fifteen times the amount of drug 1. I have three times the amount of drug 2. I also have three times the amount of drug 3. Add in drug 4, which I didn’t take any of during my last OD. I wonder how much damage I could do then?
I so far have not given into my urges to overdose. I’m not going to either. I’m trying. Trying really hard to not give into my thoughts. What’s stopping me? My parents for one. I couldn’t do this to them. Not again. Not so soon after the last time. Not when they’ve forked out all this money on ambulance fees, GP fees, psychiatrist appointments already. They may not be the most nurturing of parents and I may not be the most considerate of children, but I do feel guilty for putting them through all this. Guilty enough to stop me from doing this again anytime soon. I also have a huge aversion to proving my psychiatrist right. If I do attempt to OD again, just two weeks before exams start, the idea that all my issues are attributed to Uni will be even more firmly implanted in Dr T’s mind. Plus, I do feel quite attention seeking when I turn up to a psychologist/psychiatrist/GP’s office, with news I’ve taken an overdose, and I unfortunately am seeing Dr T again in a week. I’m afraid of losing my job, I suspect if I again abuse medications I had stolen from my workplace, I may not get away quite so easily without them finding out and me suffering the consequences of a sanction from my employers this time.
If not for all this, honestly, I probably would have consumed all those pills by now. If the ambulance wasn’t called for me by my friends two months ago, none of the above factors would come into play. I suppose everyone else will have the view that yes, the ambulance arriving did have some positive outcome after all. I can’t say I quite agree…
It’s getting a bit old, really. Oh, BtF’s thinking about overdosing yet again? Tell me something new. The people who read my rants, my online friends, must be getting quite bored of hearing this already. I even contemplated deleting some of my old posts, because I feel that I am being overly negative, venting about the same old issues and topics, over and over again, but I know if I do this I will regret it later on. Truthfully, it is getting a bit old. I’ve taken four overdoses in two years. I should be learning how to cope, moving forward with my life. Instead, I’m searching for the easy way out. Because that’s what it is, it’s me not wanting to deal with whatever hardship life has to offer me. Suicide is not an option, it never is, it never was. I need to get that into my head.