plan c
My last resort.
- Nov 8, 2022
- 181
No, I don't feel like killing myself, at the moment, no.
No, I don't need help or anything. Therapy and meds have become useless and would be even more so in the days to come. Maybe there are possibilities I didn't think of... yet I'm too exhausted or too lazy to bring that up my mind.
No, don't ask how I'm feeling bc I decide not to feel. My feelings are highly inaccurate and too costly since my cognition is kinda shot I think.
No, I can't write many long words so if u want to argue with me ur probably right then.
Should my brain be a computer, this thread is just m random error reports and fan noise. Words carry those meanings I don't really intend to let them, so I just decide to have them lay here.
There's something I came across on the street near my lodging place. I thought it was a stray cat looking for food. In the end it's just plastic bag.
Bio clock is compromising. Those outbreaks are too frequent before I eventually manages to fall asleep. And I could only get sleep from the hours when outbreaks temporarily cease.
I ventured a guess earlier, that they most likely resulted from traumatic events from the past, so that my cognitive resources go on constant drainage to try and distract myself from and suppress those triggering thoughts. I do quite a good job distracting and consoling myself when I'm conscious, but not when I'm drunk or sleepy or preoccupied(?) or physically ill.
Earlier today I thought I was lucky enough to get 7H of sleep and gain some vigor. My therapist refused to see me and I decided to do some research I tried sandbox and used chatgpt to aid me. However I only found those memories we're too blurred for me and even for chatgpt to recreate and analyze said events I hypothesized. It's becoming a form of abstract and intangible sub-conscious flow of sorrow.
I know it's not real thoughts, that sorrow-like object. I kept saying no, as a form of denial rather than exclamation. Instead of how sad I am it just showed how broken my cognition is. It's like what I once read in a book, in which a man wander into a jungle only to find bats everywhere, noticing they're magical phenomenon, aka a curse rather than millions of flying creatures.
No I don't find reasons to state that I hate myself. It's just something going terribly wrong like smbd. just rm -rf /* 'ed part of my brain. I'm even clueless about what kept me taking damage. I compare it to all different things: being on a leaking boat in center of the sea, being cursed and haunted, stranded in no-man's place. Hoping others would ever relate to that. But it was all just lies. I don't even feel depressed or anxiety or insecurity anymore, but logic tells me it not likely they're gone for nothing. It must be just my mind is breaking, to a point I would no longer sense them.
No, I don't need help or anything. Therapy and meds have become useless and would be even more so in the days to come. Maybe there are possibilities I didn't think of... yet I'm too exhausted or too lazy to bring that up my mind.
No, don't ask how I'm feeling bc I decide not to feel. My feelings are highly inaccurate and too costly since my cognition is kinda shot I think.
No, I can't write many long words so if u want to argue with me ur probably right then.
Should my brain be a computer, this thread is just m random error reports and fan noise. Words carry those meanings I don't really intend to let them, so I just decide to have them lay here.
There's something I came across on the street near my lodging place. I thought it was a stray cat looking for food. In the end it's just plastic bag.
Bio clock is compromising. Those outbreaks are too frequent before I eventually manages to fall asleep. And I could only get sleep from the hours when outbreaks temporarily cease.
I ventured a guess earlier, that they most likely resulted from traumatic events from the past, so that my cognitive resources go on constant drainage to try and distract myself from and suppress those triggering thoughts. I do quite a good job distracting and consoling myself when I'm conscious, but not when I'm drunk or sleepy or preoccupied(?) or physically ill.
Earlier today I thought I was lucky enough to get 7H of sleep and gain some vigor. My therapist refused to see me and I decided to do some research I tried sandbox and used chatgpt to aid me. However I only found those memories we're too blurred for me and even for chatgpt to recreate and analyze said events I hypothesized. It's becoming a form of abstract and intangible sub-conscious flow of sorrow.
I know it's not real thoughts, that sorrow-like object. I kept saying no, as a form of denial rather than exclamation. Instead of how sad I am it just showed how broken my cognition is. It's like what I once read in a book, in which a man wander into a jungle only to find bats everywhere, noticing they're magical phenomenon, aka a curse rather than millions of flying creatures.
No I don't find reasons to state that I hate myself. It's just something going terribly wrong like smbd. just rm -rf /* 'ed part of my brain. I'm even clueless about what kept me taking damage. I compare it to all different things: being on a leaking boat in center of the sea, being cursed and haunted, stranded in no-man's place. Hoping others would ever relate to that. But it was all just lies. I don't even feel depressed or anxiety or insecurity anymore, but logic tells me it not likely they're gone for nothing. It must be just my mind is breaking, to a point I would no longer sense them.
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