Right now I have 2800mg lamictal 150mg zopiclone and 600mg seroquel, a selection of random painkillers, and domperidone to stop me being sick which i’m taking just now.
My boyfriend won’t be home tonight. Byeeee xxxx
Right now I have 2800mg lamictal 150mg zopiclone and 600mg seroquel, a selection of random painkillers, and domperidone to stop me being sick which i’m taking just now.
My boyfriend won’t be home tonight. Byeeee xxxx
This is where I’ll die.
I am a disgusting human being and I don’t want to live anymore.
I started psychotherapy and spoke about all the horrible things men have done to me.
Then at my psychiatrist I went for a normal appointment but it turned into crisis management so I’m going again on Monday.
I’m taking seroquel now on top of lamictal and effexor.
I’m out of money. I mean I’m in debt, don’t have any way of borrowing any more. I can’t find a job. Im classed as disabled but can’t get any benefits unless i drop out of uni entirely which would mean I could never return to it.
So i don’t know.
gosh, i’m so so close to giving up.
i have an appointment with my new psychiatrist on thursday, and then i start psychotherapy next tuesday.
i lay and cried for hours tonight, and my boyfriend didn’t know what to do and i just wanted to run away and jump off the bridge. sorry for being dramatic.
you might have noticed i’ve come off my meds. i didn’t really mean to. but i missed a few doses and then when i tried to take my high dose again i puked them up and so now i keep forgetting in the morning. it’s weird being reminded of how numb i’ve been though.
i wish i couldn’t feel pain.
my m.e. has gotten a lot worse lately too. i can barely walk. today i had to walk home from town and by the time i got here i was in agony and felt so weak. i just feel like what’s the point in trying.
Virginia Woolf’s suicide note to her husband Leonard before drowning herself.
On 28 March 1941, Virginia Woolf put on her overcoat, filled its pockets with stones, and walked into the River Ouse near her home and drowned herself. Her body was not found until 18 April 1941. Her husband buried her cremated remains under an elm in the garden of Monk’s House.
(via lindosor)
And I picture this corpse
on the M8 hearse
and I half run away to sleep
On a rolled up coat
against the window
with the strobe of the sun
and the life I’ve led
am I ready to leap
is there peace beneath
the roar of the Forth road bridge?
On the Northern side
there’s a Fife of mine
and a boat in the port for me,
And fully clothed, I float away
(I’ll float away)
Down the Forth, into the sea
I’ll steer myself
through drunken waves
these manic gulls
scream it’s okay
take your life
give it a shake
gather up
all your loose change
I think I’ll save suicide for another year.
This is where I’ve fantasised about dying. I spent some beautiful times here.
/
