world suicide attention day

Obviously the trigger warning here is suicide, I want to add a caveat – if you’re a survivor, I’m extremely concerned that my post will cause you pain, and I don’t want you to be sore.

wpid-30_suicide_rate_tshirt-r0d46a0d6bd5d469ea96ea0840d1fc593_804gm_324.jpgFirstly I just need to say RIP all the warriors who fell on their own swords in battle, and if you call that cowardice, fuck you. I quoted this the other day, but I’m doggedly determined to get the world to read it and understand.

One of the things that baffles me (and there are quite a few) is how there can be so much lingering stigma with regards to mental illness, specifically bipolar disorder. In my opinion, living with manic depression takes a tremendous amount of balls. Not unlike a tour of Afghanistan (though the bombs and bullets, in this case, come from the inside). At times, being bipolar can be an all-consuming challenge, requiring a lot of stamina and even more courage, so if you’re living with this illness and functioning at all, it’s something to be proud of, not ashamed of.
They should issue medals along with the steady stream of medication.
Carrie Fisher, Wishful Drinking

Comrade Doritos’ Meds Cocktail Party invitation:
1. Your diagnosis (or your loved one or friend)
2. What meds you’re taking
3. How you’re currently doing
4. And anything you’d like to share regarding suicide and suicide prevention

Superhero Pills anyone?

Fuckit. They sold out of Loki supervillain pills.

There was a time when I had a sensitive, difficult and depressive personality; now I have acronyms. There was a time when the word ‘cocktail’ didn’t make me think instantly and spontaneously, ‘meds’. It’s the same for all of us, for my tribe.

Dx: Bipolar I (ultrarapidcontinuouscyclingwithmixedandpsychoticfeatures flavour), agoraphobia (I don’t see why being terrified of shopping mauls is a problem), complex post traumatic stress disorder (because having a complex complex is just lovely). RLS, TMJ, ADHD, LGBTQ, DMZ.

Precious, but only by cost.
Precious, but only by cost.

Rx: lamotrigine (anticonvulsant), chlorpromazine (antispsychotic), sertraline (antidepressant) and prn sulpuride (anti anxiety), wirblewind (anti aircraft).

Some of the above information may contain traces of pure bullshit, the infopinions below do not. Accordingly, this is where I stop taking the piss. Seriously, this post is a total downer and I’m almost certainly going to give you cause for disagreement. It all turned into therapy for me.

I’m never bloody OK. I have intervals of happy that soar too high and then it’s all Icarus – one flash, three feathers and that’s all she wrote. The reason for it is that my bipolar disorder cycles continuously, so I don’t have periods of “normal emotions” and never have. I asked my psychiatrist (who is confident of getting me there) how I’d recognise them; she said, “you won’t, but I’ll tell you.” So the flavour of “not ok” that is currently doing pirouettes across my palate, is my baseline (depression), with the added seasoning of it being melancholic depression. As warped as it may sound, I’m far more comfortable with a mercifully constant depression, free of accursed mixed fucking episodes. Therefore, I’m about as OK as I get. I’m so down that tears are always there, I feel permanently dazed with sadness and, pertinent to this post, I have suicidal ideations coming out of every pore.

blahpolar disorder (this is sparta)
blahpolar disorder (this is sparta)

And today? Well today I had therapy and it started like this:

Blah: It’s World Suicide Prevention Day today.
Shrink Two: And the whole month too.
Blah: I’m going to save your life, Shrink Two; do not commit suicide today.
Shrink Two: Okay blah, please don’t commit suicide today either.
Blah: Okay.
Shrink Two: Sorted.

We then proceeded to spend an hour talking (as usual) about suicidality being my default setting. Considering I am now middle aged (and frequently quite medieval too), the fact that suicidality has been my default setting for as long as I can remember pales against the fact that I am, to all intents and purposes, alive. There’s a cyst and some scars on my wrists, but the pulse behind them is fine. Overdoses made me as seriously sick as a seriously sick dog, but my organs are in great shape. I’m alive; o joy o rapture, I have survived a decade of abuse, a few suicide attempts, a ludicrous amount of losses and grief, witnessing deaths (and not always peaceful ones) and… you get the picture. I wouldn’t get gold at the suffering Olympics, but I’d be on the standby substitute team bench thingy. I’m quite good at seeing context and perspective; I know that compared to the overwhelming majority of the entire human race (past and present), I am very fucking privileged. And beyond that, I completely agree that life is precious, not to be squandered and that suicide hurts other people.

I want to die. I do not want to be alive. I support right to die movements. I do not believe anyone should have to endure risky, physically and mentally painful, humiliating and nightmarish suicide attempts. Solution? A utopian mental and physical health system, with euthanasia/assisted suicide available after rigorous investigation using incredibly strict guidelines. I’d meet the requirements in Belgium and the Netherlands. I’d meet them on the grounds of the severity of my primary diagnosis and the way it cycles. Have another look if you missed it at the start; I’ll wait. There is no right or wrong here, and religions tend to proscribe it (Tibetan Buddhists call it “taking four”, because it interrupts your journey to nirvana by giving you an incarnation as an animal).

Why do some folk have disparate opinions about abortion and euthanasia?

I am not cavalier about this, it’s not that I’ve never lost anyone to suicide. Try three friends in a year. In one of the cases, I completely agreed with the choice, in the other two, I understood one and was utterly bewildered by the other. I know the difference between suicidal ideations and suicidal intentions, and every time Shrinks One and Two ask, they know I’ll clarify. You know the drill; ideations are the first stage, intentions, plans and wherewithal are the danger zones.

I have a plan.


I have a plan, but it’s for a decade into the future and a lot can happen in a decade. I have a method, but I won’t discuss it, because people online are encouraged not to. I didn’t find my chosen method online, but I could – and I could also learn to make a bomb, join a cult, buy child pornography and assorted nightmarish horrors. It’s all about choice innit? And then we’re told that not all choices are legit, because no matter what the disorder or circumstances, people think the choice was made under the influences of factors outside of “the norm”. I think that argument is bs.

I do not believe all suicides are created equal and I’m going to use myself and someone I knew to show you my reasoning.

Him: young, plenty of friends and relatives, good qualifications, terminal disorder.
Me: fuckall family, friends are far, can’t work due to disorder.

The difference is the potential support network. The existence of family etc doesn’t mean they’ll form a support network, but the potential is there. Say, however, that someone has so few people, because most of those people have died – a support network is a bit tougher to find and form. Someone might have social anxiety and not be able to handle socialising much. Someone might get triggered towards mania even after a lively visit with one other person. They’re badly short of money, they cannot work – perhaps they are incredibly courageous and have fought hard and hurt hard for most of their lives. They form the best possible support system under the circumstances – psychiatrist, a few friends, a dog. It’s not enough, it has to be enough – the someone keeps going, but it just doesn’t work and exhaustion sets in, along with the despondence. From there, it’s a very short walk to despair.

This whole monologue could continue infinitely, but for me the crux of the matter is that I don’t need to convince you of anything, I don’t even have to convince myself. I do factor in the people I love – and let me reiterate that in terms of it being a ten year plan, that’s enough time for the old many a slip twixt cup and lip concept to kick in. So it could change; things could remain the same or get worse and reinforce the plan, or they could get better and/or I could find whatever changes I’d need to make to cancel the plan. It’s a plan, a safety net; one thing is most very definitely is not, is a threat. And I’m telling you fuckers in confidence, because it isn’t the sort of thing one talks about. Let me not veer off into too much attempted objectivity, I’ve written so much about suicide on this blog previously anyway.

What am I saying? Where is this going? What’s the conclusion? I. Don’t. Fucking. Know.

All of the above is absolutely subjective. I am absolutely not trying to convince or convert any of you. If you’re a survivor of a suicide attempt yourself, or of the suicide or attempted suicide of someone you love, all I can possibly say to you now is – I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about your pain and I am  truly sorry if I’ve just triggered it horribly with this post. I was in two minds about publishing it at all, for that very reason.

wpid-2b039a1f1f5eae0b834b2e05a3bc6e2c.jpgI’m standing by my own tangled thoughts, however, but not defending them. This is simply who and what and where and how I am. I wrote all of this is response to the initial Meds Cocktail Party post, but then (as usual) navel gazed so hard that I discovered there’s actually a rabbit hole in there too – and then promptly feel down it. I always forget to choose the blue pill dammit.

Suicide prevention? My answer remains what I said earlier in this post: utopian healthcare is the place to start.

I am so fucking exhausted, and I’m very surprised that I just spilled my guts all over this post. Well that was all very fucking cheerful wasn’t it? Dunno bout you, but I need to yank the curtains open now and let some sunshine bleed in.

Published by


battlescarred, bright, bewildered, bent, blue & bipolar

66 thoughts on “world suicide attention day”

  1. I attempted and failed suicide. My family was devastated. Can’t let that happen again. This post didn’t trigger me. I am very open about my attempt.

    Liked by 3 people

      1. I keep on posting that Carrie Fisher quote (think this post was at least my 4th time), but I’ve never found a better expression of just how freaking wrong people are when they assume mental illness = feeble minded. We’re as tough as biltong.

        Liked by 3 people

  2. I’m very proud of you for publishing this post, my partner in crime. You gave a TW.
    It was absolutely *fine* to post this today. Better than fine.

    For a year now (over a year?) your words have never failed to help many of us. No matter what the topic/s.

    As a survivor, I don’t mean to make light of anything, please believe that, but as long as you don’t post anything about being cruel to animals (as if) or that you’ve become a $cientologist and you want to convert us, I really think you need to post away.

    Never hold back. Because your universal pain, your unique experience, your magnificent way of using words to express yourself is so fucking rare, inspiring, hilarious, insightful, sobering, soul-shifting and precious. That’s why I tell everyone I know that your blog is my #1 favorite out of the 80-100 I subscribe to at any time.

    much love,
    from one who understands the agony

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Thanks lots for your incredibly kind words.


      Have you accepted Hell Con Cupboard as your personal saviour? I just know you’ll relish these useful yet attractive pamphlets, this agenda-free quiz and the all you can pay buffet.

      Come into my parlour, said the $pider to the fly.

      Thanks again.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. I think my Granny actually spoke to John Travolta at a Scientology-sponsored event. I’m serious. I’ll find out more because there’s someone I can ask about this. And thanks for making me smile. And for your kindness in being concerned about triggering friends/family affected by suicide. Xo

        Liked by 2 people

        1. Shit, now I’m gonna have to vacuum my blog again, you dropped names all over the Persian rugs again ;D

          And by that what I mean is – do it! Do it now! I want to hear that story asap.

          Liked by 1 person

      2. I’m such a sucker for the glossy brochure! And if you give me a keychain & a free pen, &, gasp, a buffet and totally innocuous quiz, God knows what could happen!

        Liked by 1 person

        1. So sorry suckered, er, ma’am, but Google, I mean we, are fresh outa keychain$ but may I interest you in this beautiful yet tasteful item of jewellery?

          As you can see it’s made of 2649 carrot fool’s gold and has a fully rustable distrustable adjustable chain, which is no way signifies our policy of binding you to us for life. Please note the triangle thingies, which symbolise important and cosmic matters, and the S, which has absolutely nothing to do with snakes or dollar signs.

          But wait, there’s more.

          Buy now and receive this t-shirt

          Wait. What? Norm, this shirt has a fricken RAINBOW ON IT! OK who screwed up the order? Shit, is this microphone on?

          Liked by 2 people

  3. Re: stigma -I have something to share…..and the dragon won’t toast me, the dragon will say that I need to cut down on my Blahpolar Diaries comments. And I will cry. Because I love commenting here – I can’t help myself!

    Okay, so here’s the latest. I live in a mountain community full of hippies, tweakers, homeless, poor, middle and very rich people, which includes Silicon Valley billionaires as well as pot growers. Both of the riches hide from the rest of us on their gated estates. We also have a shitload of churches up here – like one every 1/2 mile and I’m not kidding. It’s bizarre. Throw in a few monasteries and God-knows-what-else (oh yeah. the banana slugs, the aliens, and don’t forget Bigfoot families) and that’s where I live. It’s very different from West L.A. I digress.

    We have a local “SCM Bulletin” that’s published monthly in print and online. The Santa Cruz Mountain Bulletin has a glorious Community Calendar to promote local events that we here locals can use, alrighty.

    A couple months ago I emailed the editor a blurb about my free support group for women with mood disorders. She emailed me that it would appear on their online calendar within 72 hours. (It wasn’t worthy enough for print, I guess, although flea markets are.) I was stoked! But the listing never appeared! I emailed the editor once more to write “hey, I didn’t see it. ” I got no reply, and then I promptly forgot about it.

    The biggest local weekly (Press Banner, which has a rockin’, groovy new female editor) published my group info. this week in the Datebook. This paper is delivered to every resident in these mountains unlike the SCM Bulletin, which doesn’t have the budget for home delivery. You pick up yer copy at the coffee shop, the health food stores, & the GMO market, so I was quite chuffed about the Press Banner being awesome and listing the group. I wrote the editor how their help would mean a lot to me because of today’s World Suicide Prevention Day and I think that influenced her.

    So – back to the SCM Bulletin. A few days ago I was caffeinated enough to email them again with my group listing – keep in mind this is just 3 or 4 lines of info. but if it could help ONE woman from feeling like shit 24/7 – then it’s kind of worth it. So. Got no reply.

    I checked their online calendar for shits and giggles.

    On the same day my support group meets the SCM folks list two events that are SO fucking important that it just about boggles my mind: The Greek Festival (not even in our area!) and the Flea market. Flea markets are vital for the mental health of depressed, isolated, possibly suicidal women around here – everyone knows that. Even Bigfoot.

    So here are some “dream tweets” I cooked up in the 105 degree heat wave today. Lucy actually sat in the sun for a while – that super-furry dog ain’t right. I’d love to tweet ’em all & tag SCMBulletin, which tweets a couple times a day, so they’d see it – they have a whopping 150 followers.
    I’m holding back, but I might go forth with it if I get enough espresso and chocolate in me!!

    @SCMBulletin If you’re going to publish a community bulletin, practice what you preach & make a positive difference #stigmahurtseveryone

    Many women live in our mountains, depressed & isolated & could use a free support group @SCMbulletin but clearly flea markets & a Greek Festival count more #wtf #stigmamuch

    It’s awesome that a free women’s mood support group isn’t as important as a flea market! #nomoreSCMBulletinforme

    Advertise with papers who care about women’s mental health! @PressBanner @SLVNews get my vote @SCMBulletin blew it #nohealthwithoutmentalhealth

    I’d love YOUR tweet suggestions!!!!!!!!!!! Oh would I ever!

    Okay, so this isn’t primarily about suicide, and it’s crazyass long – please don’t be mad at me – I’ve been home with two sick kids in the heat wave all day – but my support group contains survivors along with those who are currently experiencing suicidal ideation. Hope you don’t mind my spew.

    I love you!

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Apart from your blatant disregard of the feelings of fleas and their trade systems, I agree with you. I’m not sure why you’re quite so irate though, considering the SCuM Balliton is a freesheet with limited niche reach and a social media footprint the size of the back foot of a runty centipede. However! Revenge is tweet.

      Buy @SCMBulletin it’s the cheapest toilet paper in town! #protips #stepfordwives #extraneoushashtags

      Or send a polite tweet directly to them, but tag whatever bodies you know whose attention you want on it.

      I think I’ve stopped making sense. Oops.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. It’s the principle of the thing! I love reading crappy hometown shit papers – the secret is out! A lot of people read it….more than the New York Times or the San Francisco Chronicle. I’ll make my amends to the fleas. (Don’t tell Craig about this post, btw – he LOVES flea markets!! We used to go to them together in the early days…Holy #%^$&%) Anyhow…..I’ve re-named the SCMBooty the Stigma Gazette and I hope you don’t mind – I transformed my Blahpolar comment into a kooky blog post. I’ll let it sit for couple days….and I LOVE “Revenge is Tweet” – can I use that and credit you in the post? And why does Lucy like sitting in the sun in 101-105 degrees?? p.s. I did send them a polite tweet but they blew me off….who knows what’s going on with them, eh? One never knows.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Definitely no credit required, I was sure there was no way I could’ve been the 1st to think of it – I like to do an image search of things like that too, and this is so cool:

          I like flea markets, tell Craig we can flee to them together. Obviously it depends what sort of flea markets, but your community sounds like it’d have fascinating ones. Things are veeeeeeery limited where I am, I’d better show Craig Cape Town instead.

          Wait, where was I?

          I love those little local papers too, they’re one of the first things I look for when I move to a new place. The whole thing brought “Hunting Mister Heartbreak” by Jonathan Raban to mind – that feeling of arriving somewhere as a stranger and imagining a life there, even if you’re just passing through.

          Okay okay – dogs lie in the sun for vitamin d, which doesn’t get processed as efficiently as humans, because of their fur. The oil secretion is the same, but dogs need to ingest it rather than waiting 48362 years for it to filter through the fur and get lost and and and poooor doggies needs the vitamin d (which is actually a hormone).


      2. How many can the purple dragon love? ALLL of them. I also love this thread. It’s spew-tiful. You’re brilliant. “It’s astounding. Time is flea-ting. Destiny takes its’ toll” #timewarp #bigofme #ILoveYouToo #fleashaveflealingstoo #don’tyoucare #hashtaghashtags

        Liked by 1 person

  4. I will tell you something.

    There is a little village perched on the edge of the Indian Ocean. In that village there is a house with a little wooden fence, no razor wire, an open stoep, no high wall or bars like a monkey cage. There lives in that house a beautiful soul. 16,337 fucking kms away and there is not a goddam soul in this city where I have family and friends who understands me like she does. I used to say I did not want to live, making the same careful distinctions every time I got that question about suicidal ideation and intentions. I know the difference. And yes, I feel like shit. But just over 6 weeks ago I fell asleep and almost had the decision about living and not living taken away from me. I do not believe in heaven, hell or reincarnation. If it is dark in the here and now I suspect it is even darker in the gone.

    Here there is a light however faint she imagines herself under the Southern Cross. And I believe in her more than anything else at this moment. I hope to fucking hell she believes in herself because I want to sit on that stoep again, listen to the birds calling and watch the sun burst in glory above the sour veld.

    Liked by 7 people

    1. Fuckit dude, you’re making a habit of causing my eyes to leak. Seriously though, I’m so freaking touched by your words that I can’t even answer them yet.

      Liked by 2 people

        1. I love you to bits for it, but mostly for the you behind it. I read it to my favourite friend here (you know) and she was enormously impressed. She tells me she likes you every time your name comes up.

          Too many km’s between us for sure. For some reason, almost all of my nearest and dearest are actually fucking far away. Praise blog almighty for th3 the Internet. I’m still not managing to answer your message. I can’t, I just start leaking.

          Liked by 1 person

          1. The internet opens the door to kindred spirits to find one another. But being able to go there, spend time at your place, our trip to Addo, the visit to C’s farm – those have given me a grounding on the far side of the globe. A place I can close my eyes and see. I am so glad my incident did not rob me of those memories. I will be hanging tight to them as I heal.

            Liked by 1 person

  5. I don’t have anything witty or melodramatic to say. It’s been a long day. Thank you for supporting my event. I love this post very much. If I hadn’t hosted the meds cocktail party you wouldn’t have strung together so beautifully all these words. They’re affirming words, enlightening words, authentic and honest words.
    What a gift.
    Don’t die. Just don’t.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. I don’t know why anyone would wanna write a melodramatic comment tbh. Thank you for the platform and reason and invitation to write it all, and thank you also for the lovely commentpliments too xxx

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Well, the one I worried about most, Zoe, is off to LIVE. And she was reading you Blah, like a zip line. Over a raging Alaskan river. So yay! Read her home page. Mos def an occasion for some Jitter Big :) Thanks for the links. Don’t like how much I suck them up and funnel them into the soul hurt, but well…Tribe make me strong.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. A coyote just woke me up on the beach. Oops. Sometimes I go off the reservation. I’m not sure what I meant. Too much Jameson, sorry. I was in Alaska once so I’m assuming I meant your posts help us like those zip line gondolas that ferry people over spring melt rivers.

        Liked by 1 person

  7. Brilliant post, as always. Above all, an honest from-the-guts post.

    How can we have an honest discussion about suicide, if we’re not honest about how we feel?

    Btw – love the humbug!

    Liked by 1 person

  8. I may not have related to a lot of what you wrote but did not disagree or feel offended with anything either. I really admire you for the eloquent way you are able to unabashedly write what is going on in your head. This post is brilliant for what it is trying to say! And like you quoted -there is no right or wrong.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Desperation is more than a word, it’s a symptom that hope is gone and you know there’s no road for you to walk on anymore. You feel you’re drowning alone in the middle of the ocean and all you have are few cans on the surface and a little log, you know game is over for you but you keep screaming and fighting not to drawn because, you don’t want to admit that it’s over for you, weather you are breathing or not it does not matter because there’s no life for you out there.

    This is where I am for too long I don’t have any hope of a miracle anymore because no matter for how long I fight or pray for help I’m still feeling alone watching my life going down the drain. I know in the near future I’ll be homeless when “mother dearest” dies, I have no family left to ask for help. I feel like a nothing, in a world where I only fit in with those like me, living in this endless war and overwhelmed pain inside our brain, fighting to stay alive as I do too. I only beg for the ignorant on mental health to not let me hear or read anymore that we are not doing enough or that we are lazy, and specially the hateful fucking remarks of those around me telling me how negative I am or I should think positive, or the latest “You should go out more”!

    You can all go fuck yourselves with your stupidity and ignorance about us! My fantasy these days is to catch one of these people, who like to spit their ignorance as if it is their holly wisdom to me, (when they never had an inch of intelligence to even solve their own problems), while they’re having a heart attack and then tell them: “oh don’t be so negative, that’s nothing… Just keep breathing you’re imagining it, THINK HAPPY THAUGHTS! Or, you are overreacting…

    And me standing there waiting for their heart attack to go away by itself to make them see how much control they have on their internal organs, the same way they expect us to have. Angry?! Hell yeah! Hating everything and everyone?! Nope, I wish I had that much energy to feed such powerful feeling as hate but I don’t, instead I get angry which last few moments and then hibernate till the next demon approaches.

    I wish your life have good news during the next 10 years for you Blah or the world will be a lot poorer.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Trinity, I read your comment and just nodded all the way through, you’ve hit the nail on the head. Well, except the matter of your impending homelessness, that is worse than awful. I wish, I hope, a miracle would happen for you so that you have somewhere warm and safe to live. Perhaps there will be good news for us both, who knows. In the meantime, your comment also reminded me that I haven’t visited your blog lately. I’ve been truly shite about visiting everyone’s blogs lately tbh and I promise I’m gonna come say hi soon.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you Blah for your reply, I know you have lots of comments and that can be overwhelming. I am in limbo as far as my future; I don’t know what’s going to happen to me anymore. As for you visiting my blog, it’s always a pleasure for me having you around although I haven’t write anything much these days because I can’t find the energy or the inspiration for it. I finally got to the point that I’m not so sure if I am going to win this war or just say enough! Life keeps giving me buckets of shit for me to cope with and I can’t take any more of that, I’ve reached my limit 2 years ago. Thank you again for taking the time to say hi, I need sweet people around for a change, a big hug to you.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. It’s not so much the comments overwhelming me, as the fact that I’m getting slower about some things, like writing, and so when I’ve written a post, especially one like this, I feel really drained and quiet. There are times when I can leap into the conversation and times when I feel too slow. I hear you about life and its buckets – I’m sure you know that feeling of disbelief, when it’s like, wtf is it going to do next, hasn’t it finished fucking me up? Brutal. So brutal. I believed in some form of karmic justice for so long and then, just over two years ago, it took no time at all for a belief over 40 yrs old to be wiped off the face of the earth. And there’s no going back, there’s just treading water.

          Eh, I’m waffling.

          Big hug to you too.

          Liked by 1 person

          1. Yes and yes to everything you wrote. I too used to believe in karmic justice, never saw any of that hitting my abusers. They continue praying and sabotaging my life and yet I’m the one that is fucked up big time. No matter what I do, I keep coming back to the same limbo I was before. I had so many jobs, took so many courses and still everything happens in the most unnatural way so I won’t be able to succeed at all. “Mother dearest”” screamed at me, (2 years ago) that I can only leave this house after she dies. I didn’t believe in black magic either, still don’t, but psychologically it doesn’t help knowing that she and my “dear sister” are into to it for most of their lives . It doesn’t help knowing that they want me to be at the same level as they are; I’m paying for being born. My life is crazier than any of my disorders put together. Oh this is even crazier; my psychotherapist told me that, the fact that my “mother” prays every day with a rosary doesn’t mean she is praying to God! LOL she told me that people can pray the rosary for evil as well! I asked her if she was kidding me, she said NO. I’m exhausted of all this endless shit. I can’t ever win. No matter how much I pray for help, I don’t think anybody can help me. They stole so much from me all my life, and no matter how much I overcome and how much I fight, I’m getting no where, I’m fucked.

            Liked by 1 person

            1. Have you lost faith in the fact that logically good things might happen? No criticism there, I guess I’m wondering, because I have. If I was closer I’d come and swat your mother upside the head with a large fish.

              Liked by 1 person

              1. LOL Only you to make me laugh today… May I recommend a great white shark…?! I believe that good things can happen but at this point I’m desperate for help and so far I only got buckets of bad luck when I need to succeed in my projects.

                I understand that life is never easy and that shit happens but even those who know me for many years tell me that this is not natural. I find it pretty stupid to tell you the truth. There are bad vibes in this house, anyone who comes to the house for so long knows this to be true.

                So as I told my psychologist, my cat must be bipolar too because she can listen and see strange events like I do. Once, in the middle of the night, we both heard growling when we were watching tv with no sound on. And yes I did know a person, I thought she was my friend, who deals with these things and she did help a bit by “cleaning house” and me, but she also told me I will never get rid of them (especially sister) in this life or after they die.

                So I am considering calling my favorite specialists the Paranormal State group LOL!! Maybe they can trap these demons who called themselves mother and sister from my beautiful self and voilà, back to life! The stupidity of it all is that I still don’t believe that someone can have so much power over another person’s life.

                I still can’t compute this. I could tell you so many things about it but what’s the point, I feel trapped. I even ran away once after living here for 3 years, I found a job working in a house far from here where I worked for a week and I ended up in the hospital with no report from the doctor and I still don’t know what happened, and here I am .

                I’m sorry this is too surreal that even I can’t talk much about it. I don’t want you to waist more time with this issue. Let’s just catch that big fish and do it!! Here fishy, fishy!!! Thanks for being around Blah, It means a lot.

                Liked by 1 person

                1. I can probably get hold of a whale shark, well, not literally – I’ll be needing a crane. You’re not stupid, please stop using the word on yourself, even in jest. Methinks that house cleaner needs a whack with a whale shark too. And I’m not wasting time listening, I wouldn’t listen if I didn’t want to. Now I should go write today’s goddamn gratitude list. Grumble.

                  Liked by 1 person

  10. You are in a much darker place than I, but I’m going to tell you what I’ve learned from all the after-school-specials on Twitter yesterday: Say No To Suicide. If someone offers you suicide down a dark alley, Just Say Ni.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Having just got around to actually reading your post – it was that kind of day yesterday -I feel like maybe you are my soul sister. I mentally underlined pretty much every sentence. Social support is what I do have left; namely, two parents and one friend; everyone else was thoroughly alienated by pre med meltdowns and assorted cray cray. My doctor also tells me I will get better — I will get back to work one day, make new friends, start writing again, have a basically genial outlook and bouncy normal goodly humored life — but except for one short interlude, nothing has touched the constant baseline melancholic depression. However, I have only been searching for ye olde magical cocktail for a year, so am still reasonably optimistic, or at least not intransigently pessimistic, all things considered. I will certainly try everything under the Pharma Sun. What terrifies me is the loss of my parents in the years ahead. I barely survived my adored wife bailing on me because she could not finally accept bipolar was real and not a figment of the collective medical imagination. I do so wish assisted suicide was a possibility, also. We should be allowed, if our anguish reaches that point, to not die in terror and savage pain. Thank you for this post. You’ve a beautiful mind and compassionate heart, I’m sorry they’re always hurting. And I’m sorry for all the losses you’ve grieved and are grieving. Thank you for being honest about your truth. Helps me be honest about mine. Hugs.

    Liked by 1 person

  12. It’s a great post. I’d never judge but I’d be absolutely devastated. You’re one of the most valuable people I know. And I know the feeling of never being OK. But even when you aren’t OK, you are making other people OK :)

    Yeah, the “normal emotion” state is really tough to spot. I just define it as lack of ideations. I think I’m on my longest streak right now.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Wow this post had so much support it was great. It took me longer to read through the heartfelt comments than the post. Not negating your post…it was brilliant and the heartfelt comments were birthed from your beautiful post.
    I still love the Carrie Fisher quote . You can keep recycling it without the passion and intention being diminished.
    Love and hugs,
    Annie <3

    Liked by 1 person

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