On the bridge.

So, I took some time off work.  Waited for the depression to wash away from my soul.  Am I bothered that I didn't make it this time?  Not really.  Not really bothered at all.  Like a scarecrow with stuffing for brains, I move on through it all.  It's kind of nice to take a snapshot of this place.  I had some lovely giggles with my gf today.  She's so funny when she wants to be, and pretty adorable most of the time.  I think maybe it was worth not dying to have that time with her.  If I could just hide away from everything and be with her, I think everything would be ok.  But I can't, I have to work and live in this awful capitalist hostile fucking world.

Ok so that's my navel-gazing done.  I'm going to be referred for STEPPS (which is some kind of training for people with emotional disorders), I think, maybe, in a few months.  Who knows.  Mental health services are so stretched and they were like yes, no, yes, no, yes about even getting a care co-ordinator.  It's funny because my suicidality is real, I do actually want to die, it's not some fucking game.  Life is fucking intolerable sometimes.  I mean shit, if I was handed a death sentence diagnosis tomorrow even not being suicidal right now: I'd be relieved.  So anyway, STEPPS is for people with BPD/EUPD which is basically a more stigmatised way of saying C-PTSD - like adding a splash of "attention seeking" sparkle to your teenage-girl-angst diagnosis.

I don't know.  I don't really think my mental health team has any idea of exactly how scary life is and how much I want to escape from it.  I had to blow my therapist out for a few weeks because of my sickness.  I don't work, she doesn't work: it's as simple as that.  I know she was pissed about it, but what can I do?  I still have to eat, and pay for my heating.  To be honest and blunt, what we've done so far hasn't really changed my life at all.  I still have my average 4 attempts on my life a year.  One for every season.

I used to think I wasn't very good at it, but I think I'm getting quite close now.  And that's OK.  I'm good with that.  Killing yourself painlessly is hard, but I think I've nailed it!  Having access to psych drugs is of course an absolute boon.

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