Brains are weird. I'd been feeling absolutely awful, suicidal as fuck. I took my antidepressant last night (intermittent dosing -- antidepressants work much quicker for PMDD than for other disorders). Well, the difference is huge. Which is not to say that I'm back to full functionality. I am not. I'm kind of out of it and tired. But I don't have the intense suicidal ideation anymore. What a difference. I feel like I can breathe again, metaphorically. It's pretty wild.
I still think that life is suffering and that there is no God and no justice and that the world as a whole is an extremely fucked up place that can never be redeemed, etc. But it's like I don't care anymore, I'm not obsessing over it. Yes, life sucks, so what. I give zero fucks right now. Yesterday it seemed all-important and I was so angry at everyone for failing to see things from my point of view. I was just filled with a seething inner rage. I felt like I was losing my mind.
Mental illness is a truly fucked up thing. It's amazing (in a bad way) how quickly I can fall into suicidal ideation, how easy it is to forget ever having felt any different.
If I didn't have my meds, I'm pretty sure I would be in great danger of killing myself. Because I wouldn't call 911 or a suicide hotline or anything of the sort. I wouldn't seek professional help. I don't have the necessary trust in other people's judgment. They've proven time and time again that they have terrible judgment and are generally deluded about existence. And the very few people whom I trust would be extremely alarmed if I confided in them that I intend to kill myself. So I would keep it to myself, and I would most likely go through with it. And the older I get, the more intense my suicidal ideation gets when I have it. I'll do my best to keep on top of my meds, but it's not always easy. I feel like it's just me, my fucked up brain, these tiny white pills, and a period tracking app. That's all I can trust to keep me alive.
I still think that life is suffering and that there is no God and no justice and that the world as a whole is an extremely fucked up place that can never be redeemed, etc. But it's like I don't care anymore, I'm not obsessing over it. Yes, life sucks, so what. I give zero fucks right now. Yesterday it seemed all-important and I was so angry at everyone for failing to see things from my point of view. I was just filled with a seething inner rage. I felt like I was losing my mind.
Mental illness is a truly fucked up thing. It's amazing (in a bad way) how quickly I can fall into suicidal ideation, how easy it is to forget ever having felt any different.
If I didn't have my meds, I'm pretty sure I would be in great danger of killing myself. Because I wouldn't call 911 or a suicide hotline or anything of the sort. I wouldn't seek professional help. I don't have the necessary trust in other people's judgment. They've proven time and time again that they have terrible judgment and are generally deluded about existence. And the very few people whom I trust would be extremely alarmed if I confided in them that I intend to kill myself. So I would keep it to myself, and I would most likely go through with it. And the older I get, the more intense my suicidal ideation gets when I have it. I'll do my best to keep on top of my meds, but it's not always easy. I feel like it's just me, my fucked up brain, these tiny white pills, and a period tracking app. That's all I can trust to keep me alive.
