I have to stop thinking about what I am going to write and just write what I think.
I have been thinking a lot about a lot of things, like keeping my experiences in order of the timeline that everything happened to me in the past. However, the way it all plays out becomes way to difficult and scripted. Therefore everything will spill out as it spills out.
In the beginning of everything I seen the psychotic words slipping out of my mind onto paper. I wrote several thoughts into my journal.
(Shivering to open up this journal, but as I look at the yellow hard book, I see the ware of it, I see the dirt it has been dragged through. Please understand that doing this is not a menial step in my opening up or facing my fear, this is a life changing step at this moment. Facing my fear at this moment… Holding on at this moment...)
5/10/10
It’s a mental battle that I never seem to win; it doesn’t matter what side I’m on or what side I think I am on, especially because I don’t know if I’m fighting myself or something else.
5/13/10
Not sure why I’m so depressed, confused and fucked-up. I had a good session with my doctor [psychologist], I “adopted” a new mantra which he prescribed to me “I am doing the best I can…Today!” Why can’t I even start to say or believe this? My poor kids are watching me go crazy in my own mind…
5/14/10
People think, believe or assume that one can switch depression on or off like some available light switch. Unfortunately, this is not so, otherwise, I would get my ass off the couch and flip that damn switch to happy, content or most desired in my mind, peace. In addition to the magic switch, people believe depression is controllable, some mind puppy I can feed treats to and make it do meaningless happy tricks.
5/15/10
I don’t recollect feeling sad, helpless or angry. I believe my day was calmer (mentally) than previous days. I’m not sure if it because Rick was home after a week of being gone or if my mental health is improving thanks to Prozac…”I am doing the best that I can…Today.”
5/19/10
I wonder if at some point everyone taking anti-depressants wants to stop taking them. I don’t have any devastating side effects that I feel or see, other than the drowsiness. But as far as wanting to kill myself…nope, no enhancement of that. I mean I still think what would happen if I consumed every drug in the house: Prozac, Ambien, Vicodin, Tylenol 3, Tylenol PM, the kids meds…just a hard cocktail. Sure it would be dangerous but I don’t want to die, I just want to experience. Probably not the healthiest experience to want to try.
5/23/10
Don’t know what to think, how to feel; I’m wondering if I’m getting better or losing. Losing to myself and losing myself as I am or as I was. I don’t want to lose my spunk, but I need to keep myself under-control. Is the medication working or is the newness and excitement wearing down; wearing sad…wearing ugly. I’m not sure yet. This is week three, last Thursday [of taking Prozac] and I’m anxious-scared for week four of Prozac!
6/1/10
I feel anxious in the way of wanting to end my life. I try to talk myself into realizing why I shouldn’t hang myself by the beam in [my brother’s] room, even the beam in the living room. The beam is so high and heavy, so obvious and bold looking. I would get myself up there and just hang there until the areal view of the living room starts to go dark and I’m no longer here. But then I realize that my kids may have to live [with] what I’ve done or worse…see what I’ve done…
6/6/10
Don’t want to but I need to, I want to fucking jump out the window, I want to fucking DIE. It’s 2:21 am, I wanted to drink my wine, get merrily advantage of by “friends”. I smoked weed so it would help me sleep but without Ambien I feel like a suicidal Insomniac. I mean I am practically writing in the dark right now, I have little light, but enjoy light to shadow my hand as it dances psychotically across the page. Fuck this I want my Ambien.”
6/7/10
What the hell am I thinking anymore? I guess yesterday’s Ambien binge and tequila shots weren’t productive for me. Suicide looks beautiful. My mothering skills are depleting, my financial management is so screwed u, and I feel like I am so fucked! So Fucked up I can’t take this, I don’t know if I am even trying or if I am depending on Prozac to get me through; which I’ve noticed little difference. My whole life is inside-out and vomiting shit [verbally and mentally] everywhere. Suicide looks Beautiful!
These are the entries up to my first suicide attempt; obviously Prozac wasn’t working for me.
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