A Month Medicated

The fuzziness has gone away. So has the good moods. Back to the way I was before the Prozac: miserable and suicidal.

Maybe I should start cutting again. Self-destruction sounds so fun.

Just Don’t Want To Do This Anymore

So tired. Just want to stop existing. What’s the lethal dose of arsenic? I’m getting bored with life again.

!!!

When the fuck do I get out of this bullshit world?! It’s so disgusting with all these vices and the inability to do something without money. Druggies, alcoholics, and societies based on money and depravity just piss me off so much! Humanity should be wiped out completely. Every last person and every evolutionary link to humankind needs to be annihilated.

I’m Awful

Lately I’ve been feeling very bitchy. I’ve also been poisoning myself (Raid doesn’t work anymore). I keep switching between being suicidal and happy.

Ah Fuck It

Suicidal again. Fun times. I keep thinking and wondering how much it’d hurt to disembowel oneself.

Also, I keep humming The Crüxshadows’ Citadel. I don’t know why. It has nothing to do with my current mood.

She’s Right

“Scream all you want; no one’s listening” That’s Caitlin’s MSN message. And I swear to God it’s the truth.

Can’t you hear me? I’m screaming, scatching at the walls. I want out! Can’t you hear me over the deafening silence? No, you’re too busy looking away, listening to other people. When will you notice me? When I’m legally declared crazy? When I’ve finally grown the balls to kill myself? No, that’s too long. I can’t be saved then.

If you do something now, I can be saved, I’ll retain my sanity. I won’t feel that urge to toss myself in front of speeding vehicles anymore, or daydream of OD’ing on sleeping pills. Save me, you motherfucker. I can’t get myself out of this hole by myself. All you have to do is give me a hand, a referral to a psychiatrist. I’ll get better, I swear. I don’t WANT to be suicidal all the time. I don’t WANT to have these crazy high-low episodes. Please, just help me.

…

I’m so low at the moment. I feel like shit. My self-esteem is gone. My tear ducts say it might be a good time to let some tears flow, but I don’t feel like crying. I want to end this misery. I don’t know what to do at the moment. I keep going in circles; I go through my usual webpages over and over and over without really taking them in. Someone give me my sanity back please?

Suicide

I’m thinking about it myself. I don’t know if Caitlin is alright; I haven’t grown a pair and called her mother yet.

306 by Emilie Autumn

“Three hundred and six
In only six years
If it was an accident
Where are the tears
I am still unidentified
Behind the cathedral
Is where my body hides
But I’m not inside
Just one of sixteen
In only one day
If it was a game
Then why couldn’t I play
I am the abandoner
But still I remain
And my frozen pulse quickens
As the black plot thickens

Like this story I heard
A lifetime ago
Where a girl
(And this is funny)
Took her life
But what she doesn’t know
Is how long it takes
For the water to rise
And the breath to stop fighting
And the cold to close her eyes

Morality plays
On stages of sin
The easy way out
Or the easy way in
I am still overglorified
My reasons to live
Were my reasons to die
But at least they were mine
Now I’ve freedom unbound
Cut the laces of life
The pistol
The poison
The noose
Or the knife
I have chosen my instrument
And said no goodbyes
And my frozen pulse quickens
As the black plot thickens

Like this story I heard
A lifetime ago
Where a girl
(And this is funny)
Took her life
But what she didn’t know
Is how long it takes
For the water to rise
And the breath to stop fighting
And the cold to close her eyes”

Depression. It Sucks.

My depression has been bad just of late. I’ve been thinking of suicide a lot. I figured out another way to go without any razor blades or poisons. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before. It’s so simple.

I got into The Crüxshadows a couple weeks ago and it’s all I’ve been listening to. It’s funny: 2 weeks and 451 listens later, they’re already my second most listened-to artist on Last.FM.

I can’t put my thoughts into coherent form.

Feeling Small

So there goes the rest of my self-esteem. I’m no one and nothing at all. I bother to remember people’s names. People don’t bother to remember mine. And suicidal thoughts are popping up more and more often. Today I envisioned drinking the rest of that Raid. It would hurt. And all those convulsions… Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. The Loudest Song is for the quietest person.

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Now playing: Assemblage 23 – Skin
via FoxyTunes