Thoughts of Suicide

Yes, the title really does say, "Thoughts of Suicide." It's been on my mind quite a bit lately. Now, that could be because I am on break so I am not keeping busy and my mind has decided to occupy itself. It does that you know, occupies itself. All of those extraneous mental processes have to be working on something. When I am not keeping them all busy enough, they play with the goo. "The goo" is the term coined to refer to all of the nasty stuff that I can't remember at will and have been (and continue to be) running from as fast and as far as is humanly possible.

I find myself preoccupied with nothing inside of my head, having difficulty keeping my grasp on reality, and being generally unmotivated to do anything. A long time ago (really only about 5 or 6 years ago, but that's still about 20% of my life) I stopped taking all of the meds I was on and kept them in an empty Kool Aid container. I was in some program where they only gave me a days worth at a time, but I'd been stockpiling for a long time and the container was nearly full. I don't know who said it, but one of the others told the T or the P-doc about it, and I had to rush home to flush everything before the meds person got there and found them. I made it in time. They sent a crisis team who searched my house. I kept one dose of all of my meds and put them in a drawer. When the crisis team got there and asked me about it, I told them that I had missed a dose once and had decided to keep it as a spare in case my meds person ever didn't show up. I told them right where it was, and they decided that there was no crisis. I'm such a damned good liar.

I stopped taking my meds a couple of months ago. When I started school, I found that I kept forgetting to take them. One of them is dangerous if you forget doses, because it can have some really bad side effects (including death) if you stop and start it. The dose has to be worked up very slowly to prevent a deadly adverse reaction. I just decided not to keep missing a day or two and then taking one, that it was too dangerous and not worth it. I was thinking today about how much medication I have in the house, everything from narcotics to tranquilizers to bi-polar meds, as well as a bunch of over the counter stuff. I doubt it would be enough to kill me, and getting that much would take some time. Luckily, I have a bunch of refills on all of my scripts (the psych ones anyways) and could easily GET enough. It might be time consuming to collect enough medication, but it wouldn't be hard. And it would give me time to accumulate more over-the-counter stuff too.

Why is all of that on my mind? I have no idea. Cutting has been another common thought, as well as starvation. It's a serious consideration right now. The only thing that prevents the cutting is the knowledge that I really can't hide it. I mean, I probably could to an extent, but the risk of discovery is HUGE! The SO's pretty observant, and there's a really big chance that he would spot it. I don't want to even think about that conflict.

Starvation is a bit easier. So long as food disappears, he doesn't need to know whether or not I actually consume it. He sleeps pretty much all day long, and is at work all evening and night. It's not like it would be hard to deceive him on that count.

I don't know why self-destruction is on my mind so much right now. I really wish that it wasn't.

T is in three more days, Monday. We are going to "do something" with one of the others or a memory or some such thing. I am still scared. I don't want to go. I want it to be tomorrow to get it over with. I'd actually rather be dead than any of the above options. Life sucks, then you die. I don't know who said that, but whoever it was is (or was) brilliant.

Me