Tuesday, November 10, 2009
I cried myself to sleep last night. This week has been like that. I feel overwhelmed by all the responsibility to get better, to help myself, and to move on in my life.
I feel like I think I try hard, but really I do not. I vegetate at home a lot. I stare at the wall half the day and wish I could change. That is getting me nowhere. This life is no life at all. It is hell.
Yesterday afternoon I had a short period of hope, that if I could manage to do all the things I enjoyed, or all the things I wanted to do, if I just did all the things that made me happy, I would become happy. Just the thinking about how to get myself, how to force myself, how to push myself to do, instead of just think about doing, exhausted and overwhelmed me. I feel useless, hopeless, helpless. Completely lost.
Last night I opened up the bag with all my hoarded medications. I want so badly to end this life. I wrote my sisters a note a few days ago. As I sat staring at all the medicine I tried to figure out how to exit and make sure my dog is okay. That, and the fact that I don't even have the energy to kill myself, is the only thing that stopped me. How sad...that besides my dog, my low energy and inability to do, is the only thing saving me.