Haven't Acted on Suicidal Thoughts in a while, but today..

 I felt like I was at the end of my tether. Figuratively, and literally.

I spent most of the day in bed, crying and snoring, just unable to haul myself off the bed and try to face the day at all. I'm so tired, so just absolutely exhausted of trying to hold it all together, and my keep my shit in a pile without losing it, that I just reached a breaking point today, and when the suicidal thoughts came, as they usually do, I not only considered them, but I acted on them. Except, it didn't work, or I wouldn't be typing this.

So I'm laying in bed, thinking about how my life has completely gone to shit in so many ways, and how I don't know how to fix it, and I wondered if I should call 911 or not, and actually admit to myself that I feel that bad. I usually feel really shameful when I feel that bad. I can hear my mother's words in my head telling me that its the coward's way out, or suicide is a cop-out, or something along those lines and I'm so filled with guilt and shame. So ashamed of myself that I feel that bad in the first place, when other people have it much worse than I do.

Then I start thinking, well, I was diagnosed with a  major psychiatric illness after all, and I do see a psychiatrist and a counsellor regularly after all, and even if my mother is in denial about me being ill, and that i only do this for attention, well, I'm doing it for attention then, but there's nobody to pay attention. So does that still mean I'm doing it for attention, when there's nobody around who gives a shit?

Hmm Good question..

So I went to bed with a big triangular wool scarf on, cause its the kind of cold that just cuts to the bones today, and the wind is howling. So I decided I would sleep without my CPAP, and I would tie the scarf around my neck, then tie that end to my wrist, and tie the other end to my night table, so that when I rolled over in my sleep I would pull that scarf tight, and somehow between the scarf and my sleep apnea, I'd choke and die. Except I didn't.

I lay there, silently crying, wishing for release for all my pain. I imagined posted news of my death, as if anyone cared, would read something along the lines of "D is a dumbass who killed herself and we don't feel sorry for her at all, cause she's a stupid ugly old fat selfish bitch. A Useless Eater, living on a handout from the government, who's too lazy to get a job, with low-self esteem and no talent, and cries at the drop of a hat. Oh and she has fake bad knees, cause some days she can walk. Good riddance!"

The thing is, even if I called 911, the hospital wouldn't do shit. They'd shame me. Then send me home.

No beds because of Covid. You're fine. You're just doing this for attention and you want someone to feel sorry for you.

Fuck all you haters. Fuck you all.

So now I have a big headache, and I still feel like shit, and I still don't know how to fix all the things that are wrong.

Like, getting out of this house. Where do I go? Sure, I might actually get a fair price for it now, but where do I go? There's nothing to buy for less than 200K, and if I rent in some poky, shitty building with not enough natural light somewhere,  all my money will be gone in 5 years and then what? Homeless in my 60's?

I would like to live in a nice, spacious bright warm house with some land so I can have a garden and do my natural dyes and have privacy, and I need to be near the ocean. If it was all on one level that would be good. These knees are not going to get fixed any time soon because I'm too fat, and too young, and I best accept that. So I need a walk in shower, and a nice big bathtub with grab bars installed. I need my laundry to be on the main floor. I need inside storage for my firewood. My studio needs to be bright, spacious and cozy. I need a sewing room where I can store all my books and supplies separate from my working room.

And someone, needs to shape up or ship out, I'm sick of him taking his negativity out on me.

I don't deserve it. My patience is running very thin, and I just can't sweep it under the rug and be Mz Nice Guy anymore, this punching bag is DONE. So done.

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