The last couple of days have been so much better. I’ve managed to complete some housework, walk the dog, read a book. I feel calm and relaxed. I don’t like it and I don’t trust it. How can I enjoy feeling well when it simply negates the maelstrom of emotions I felt last week? How can I be suicidal one day and considering home improvements the next? How can I present myself at the assessment with the community mental health team next week and ask for their help, when I don’t need or want it?
I still think about suicide but dispassionately. The urge has gone. But the thoughts are there because I feel I need to complete what I started. I feel guilt for having put my friends through so much worry. I am a manipulator, attention seeker. The only way I can prove those feelings were genuine is if I end my life. The only way I can prevent putting them through that again in the future is to end my life. Yes, people will grieve, but only in the short term. Better to put them through that than to keep coming back every few years demanding attention when I can’t cope on my own.
I think the main problem is that whilst not feeling down anymore, I am unable to see a good future. All I can envisage is being sat in some nursing home 40 years from now, looking back and knowing that my life had absolutely no meaning. I acheived nothing. What’s the point in that?
No job, no kids, no partner, no home of my own. Can’t drive a car, failed exams, repeated depressions and suicide attempts, self harm, lifelong eating disorder, personality disorder. I am defective. They’ve tried to break me down and put me together again and it failed. I failed. Don’t worry, I’m not going to top myself tonight. But knowing that is an option, that it is my fate, gives me comfort.