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My Friday the Thirteenth involved a headache that complied with the promise that pain meds would not deter it, a fever, and throwing up in such a way that a blood vessel in my eye appears to have burst.This is all infinitely more exciting than expected.
xxx
If I could just… stop thinking for ten seconds, that would be really great.
I think this month’s deceptively timely responses in the post-chapter haze have come in for their crash landing. Sorry guys, I’m fried. I should bounce back okay, but it might be a few days before anything sensible can get typed out.
-stares at new patient forms-I’ve seen this practitioner before. This feels unjust.
I like to forget I have social anxiety problems.Agreeing to spend the night at my brother’s clients’ house so that their four-legged Ewok of a dog could be kept company was not the way to move forward with that battle plan.
One of these things is not like the others.Let the games battle of will commence!
People friending me post-game in Overwatch and then wanting to play again stresses me out. I don’t always play very well, and I can deal with that when I’m the only one recognizing me as a person, but adding someone else into it just…And it’s
…Yeah, I just seem to be in a place of “can’t” with… basically everything. Sorry for not getting back to people. Or showing other signs of life. I’ll try to rally and figure something out.
I miss writing fanfic.That’s it, that’s the entire post.
I’ve spent Easter writing 2000 words of an incredibly self-indulgent yumikuri reincarnation AU.
Every once in a while, there comes these slight inklings that maybe, perhaps, I’m not doing as well as I think.My immediate reaction to season three in 2018 probably should not have been, “I don’t want to have to stay alive that long.”Yeah, I’m
Step One: Do not trip while skating.Failed step one.Ow.
My evening’s mostly been me explaining to myself that I would probably feel very stupid the second after if I actually went through with stabbing myself in the throat with a pair of scissors.I can’t tell if this means the new meds are working, not
I’m not suicidal. I’m not. I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.Fuck.It’s been so long since it was this bad. I don’t know what to do. I’m writing. My tfln queue has had a buffer for multiple days for the first time in months. I’m going outside
Sort of hard to keep digging a funk deeper when everyone insists on being so nice.Thanks a million, guys. I mean it.
Sometimes I’m scared I’ll never be okay. Not with the health stuff. That… I’ve tried to let go of that, give it to God and all that jazz, and maybe it’s working. But with the rest of me, sometimes I get a look at what’s missing, and oh
The fact that my body has taken up crying every time an IV needle is placed does not inspire confidence in my health.
Fuck it, I wish I were dead. There’s no way I can do this year.
tfw things are okay for two seconds, maybe even better than okay, then a gentle breeze hits and death sounds like a really good idea again.Fucking hell this can’t keep happening. It’s not worth it. It can’t possibly be healthy, either. I don’t
I can’t scream out loud because I live with enough people that questions would be asked (/shouted in rage, given the time of night), and I really don’t have anything wordy to say about my emotional state, so here, have this post that definitely has
I don’t know how many of you are nurses, or have an interest at all in patient care, but if you ever end up in a profession where it is relevant, I have a mild suggestion.If your patient starts crying after three failed attempts at putting a line in,
I mean, if you look at it logically, it isn’t necessarily that things are getting worse, it’s that the things that were making it manageable are slowly being eaten away and reminding me of all the horribleness. In theory, that could even be helpful.
Can I go a day without wanting to kill myself, please.Why are things still getting worse… that shouldn’t even be possible.
I want to die I want to die I want to die.I can’t die because my best friend’s friends keep dropping dead all around her and I promised I’d always be there.I was lying the last time I said that. This time I meant it. I am not allowed to die.I want
Every time I stop writing I want to die, and I do not have the energy to keep writing.I don’t even know which part of this I want to fix. I just want it all gone.
I just don’t get the point. I don’t have a job, I am expensive as fuck to take care of with my medical issues, I do nothing at all except try to find distractions from how much pain I’m in, and I’m still miserable all the time. What the hell is
I was supposed to see my shrink tomorrow, but scheduling mishaps, so it’s Tuesday instead. I need to ask her for names of psychiatrists because I need drugs. I am actively being self-destructive with my mental health, I have no handle whatsoever on
So for those of you who have been tracking my psychological meltdowns instead of politely ignoring them and giving my sane content notes, you may be aware that I had an appointment with my shrink today.It’s getting its own post not because it’s depressing
-has grand plans and enthusiasm--goes with a mental breakdown instead-No, wait, I wanted the opposite of this.I was hoping I’d grown into energy, but I think I just burned myself out…
And I want to kill myself.I don’t see why I should bother trying so hard just to wind up in the same place time after time. I’m not suited for life. I think it would work better if I didn’t have to live it.I hate people. And life. And just…
So we went out to dinner tonight, and when we got home, there was a very wriggly puppy to welcome us back.I haven’t had a good year. I might not have a good tomorrow, or next month, or next year. I don’t know how things will play out.Today, I am so,
This is a little morbid.There’s this bridge in the area I play Pokemon Go. Every time I cross it, I look down, and think about jumping. Not that hard. Just long enough to remind myself that not only would it not kill me, it would probably break my bones,
-puts head in hands-I always forget I have a type until confronted with direct evidence.Then direct evidence happens to walk through a door and I cease to be a functioning person made of any sense whatsoever.Why are girls pretty. Pretty is not think-makin
The meds make things so much better. Now I only want to actively kill myself like twelve times a month.Fuck I can’t do this.
But how long do I have to feel suicidal to wonder if I should change my meds.-sigh-I’m in so much fucking trouble. Still. Again. Ever yet.I don’t think I can be fixed anymore.
tea-kitten: when you start shipping something you know is totally wrong #DONNIE don’t even fucking look at me Krystina, I s2g.
NaNoWriMo
I believe the time to give up and admit my own hopelessness is at hand. How do people make friends on Tumblr?
Let it be known that I took apart my laptop with an eyeglass repair kit to replace its fan. And it works. I love being awesome.
Victory is mine.
Seven medical appointments in two weeks. Mission complete. -keels over-
Depression is back with bells on. Does that make sense? I don’t even know where that idiom comes from, but I think that might not be the right way to use it. And I’m not bothering to look it up, which says a disturbing amount about where
Hey guys, funny story–not ha-ha funny or anything–actually, not any kind of funny, it’s more on the depressing side if anything, but if you were to laugh while your eyes glaze over reading this it would at least give it the appearance
I’m trying to convince myself that the return of symptoms I haven’t had since starting a medication I had to stop yesterday is completely coincidental. Entirely unrelated. A shocking twist to a story going stale. Yep.
It’s been a week for things. I guess I’m doing my teen angst a few years late. An old friend of mine periodically tries to reconnect with me, and I guess another round is starting up. …That’s a really ungrateful way of putting
My therapist’s office believes in asking patients what they liked most and least about each session. Since I have no problems with how my sessions go, my answer for what I like least is pretty much the same thing every week; I deeply resent that
My mouse is broken. Why is my Minesweeper tool broken.
I can’t tell if I’m suicidally depressed because the medication taken for the possible infection making me suicidally depressed is working and the infection takes issue with that or if I just feel like killing myself because that’s where
I just realized 2014 is ending. I have anime posts to write. This is the part where I realize that I really need to start keeping a list of what I watch. Update: Twelve shows. Past me, you are a jackass. We didn’t even like, like… two of
The fantastic thing about chronic illness is that if you find yourself psychologically incapable of continuing treatment, it won’t care. It’s going to keep on doing its thing in your body, and you don’t get the option of bowing out
Day 2 of NaNoWriMo:This story is horrible and I hate it.This is why I usually do this with some kind of plot in place.I HAVE NO IDEAS AND I MUST SCREAM. LOUDLY.
On what to bring to a new medical office:Medication List: It is vital for us to know your current and past medication therapies.It goes on to explain how much detail to provide.This sounds like a really smart, reasonable request.I have been doing this
Guess who gets to be allergic to the treatment that they’ve spent three months prepping for!Guess what the alternative treatment is!(It’s okay if you get that guess wrong. So far the answer doesn’t appear to exist. If that was your guess, congratulations!
There’s a lot of stuff I’m finally going over with my therapist. Among them is the omnipresent feeling of uselessness. Probably some dozen lines down the docket, we might get to my frustration over that instead of my self-loathing.The number of things
The Easter Frisbee is here.
androgynousblackbox: silviathegoldenmicrofelid: infernalpume: k i loved Zootopia but can we maaaybe talk about the motherclucking designs in the Kung Fu Panda series, particularly the women? specifically tigress??? Like she totally reads as feminine