Now they're both depressed and I don't really know what to do with myself. Like, I kinda feel jolly happy in comparison except I've got no reason to be and I'm still miserable. Yes, I still am suicidal and hate most of my life, but I still can't see the possibility that I would be depressed. Neither can any doctor I've spoken to the past 10 years. I'm half depressed, like low, constantly, but it's more like some kind of melancholy?
I just want to be a support for both of them but I feel helpless and clueless. I don't mind it at all, loving and or caring about people with depression, it can happen to anyone and doesn't make them any less lovable/likable. But it's a bit difficult too, as I just want to be around them even when thy don't feel up for having any company at all. I'm just words and expression with nowhere to to turn. I wish I could do more, but I'm so very far away and can't just... you know, do anything than sit on my ass.
I think it's my own inability to know what to do with myself that is the only fault here, that I wish I could do more than I actually can and I feel too persistent, annoying and in the way. And maybe it has nothing to do with their states of mind, cause I grew up thinking I was like that. That I'm a bother, in the way and should just shut up and sit in my corner. Well, everyone except from my parents seemed to think that way. That I was just wrong and should change but I couldn't.
Mabe it's my asperger to blame, I don't know. I was kinda born with it and it's always been a fucking bother. To me and everyone around me. Although, in my teens I learned somehow, how to act like "normal" people do, in some ways at least and yeah, I think it all just comes down to me and my own insecurities. I don't feel good in this drunkenness, I feel like a fucking failure. And I know it's very likely that you, and others, don't perceive me that way. But I do and that hurts.
I feel like I'm just never good enough no matter how hard I try. How many million times have I tried my fucking best and still ended up failing miserably? Enough times to have it imprinted in my brain that I am an utter failure. And I blame it on a curse when I really should just blame it on the faulty wiring in my brain combined with my over sensitivity. I take things so hard, every time I fail at something, it can be very small, I just crash and I crash so damn hard. I lose all faith every single time thinking I can literally never get it right.
It doesn't matter what it is and I can't even think of an example. Cause I'm too drunk and I'm just a sad alcoholic. Another life wasted, huh? So no, I have absolutely nothing against any of the two depressed souls that I would do close to anything to care for and support, all I have against is my own damn self. Sometimes I wonder how can I not be depressed myself? I have every god damn reason to be but I'm not. I still laugh and enjoy myself between the deepest, darkest moments of self hatred, anxiety and feelings I don't even have names for. I love and live, despite of everything, and I just can't understand it.
No, of course I don't want to be depressed, but this has been bothering me for all these 10 years since that first doctor I ever saw prescribed me Prozac after my second suicide attempt (the first they were aware of) because suicide attempt are so commonly associated with depression. But the pills had no effect and I wasn't even diagnosed with depression. Instead I got Sertraline or Zoloft which is the same thing, and I did feel better for some time but it was the circumstances. Life became better as I got into a really good school/class, fell in love with R and everything was good because of what happened around me.
Then I've tried almost every anti-depressant drug known to man and I can't even remember them all cause I just couldn't understand why they weren't working. I've tried to kill myself 18 times but I was never depressed. It just doesn't fit. Think I dreamed of a 19th suicide attempt this night, hrm, I just remembered. I wondered what I did in that dream, if maybe it's something I could try in real life.
It's become my CV, my rap sheet, my senseless pride about how many times I've tried to end my life. How many people managed 18 times and still live to tell the stories? It all begins with a thought, then what I do often hasn't been even close to deadly. That's how I survived it. But I never wanted to survive, never hoped someone would save me. I just wanted it all gone. And I still do.
I am and have been thinking about trying again lately but I don't know if I'm gathering courage or what. I think of one, maybe two different methods. One is probably more deadly than the other but they're both very dangerous and could possibly damage my brain. Permanently. If I don't die, that is. Although, if I die my brain would definitely be permanently damaged. Since you don't really come out of that state. I really should just take a god damn needle and my black pen ink and stab in the words "do not resuscitate" on my wrist or something before going ahead with any of those two methods though. Just in case.
But write it in Swedish in case the fuck ass who tries to "save" me didn't go to enough English lessons at school to understand my writing. Urgh, I don't really want Swedish words permanently under my skin, but what the fuck else to do, kinda. It's leaning a lot more to one method more than the other due to technical and practical reasons. I don't want to scare any of my readers way too much so won't say what I'm half planning to do. I haven't planned very far, but after 18 failed attempts, I don't any longer believe that much planning is even necessary.
Just get the tools necessary for the job, write a 45679904th suicide letter and wait for the right opportunity. I still stay alive throughout this horrible year though. Cause I think I'll do it somewhere at school and it's very closed there now until next year. Never talking about my suicide attempts in real life kinda seems to make them pile on even more... Like I just don't care anymore, it's my life, my death. And I wonder how many attempts it will take, before I either get better or die. One of those things are bound to happen at some point in my life.
Cause either I'll die from suicide or I won't. It's really that simple. I wonder what will catch up with me first, suicide death or natural death. Well, I could get into some kind of accident or get murdered too though, but somehow that seems less likely. I'm sorry, I'm worrying you for no reason. I don't plan to try suicide again before next year and that's weeks ahead, yet I write as if it could happen tomorrow. It's not gonna, that much I can promise.
But I do feel torn, as I'm just getting drunker, half laughing at stupid things, half wanting to die. And I'm getting bored again, as I took a WoW break and then got bored with it. I did however look up the cost of getting ESO (elder scrolls online, pc game) and it wasn't that very pricey, so I think I'll go for it. Tomorrow that is, cause that's when I'll get more money. Maybe I should just go to bed, I don't know. I don't care.
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