Trigger warning: talk of suicide
Since I've gone back on remeron and wellbutrin, suicidal thoughts have been predictably slamming into me.
Trying Cymbalta right now. Although it decreased suidal thoughts, I don't think it cuts it. I feel too sluggish on it.
The brain is an interconnected system and a single thing can affect the whole.
I've sort of been there before and it was temporary. The longest so far has been a 1.5 years period in 2008-2009 of daily suicidal thoughts, until I sta
Unemployed and very unhopeful about finding a job I like.
(Why the hell does it skip a line when I press return on my phone)
Sitting in a coffee shop drinking an expresso on a rainy day, looking out the window, thinking it makes perfect sense why people fall into addictions.
I see two pedestrians smoking cigarettes waiting for the green light to cross the street. Getting their dose of pleasure and reward. Would they have gotten this habit if their lives were rewarding?
I don't buy it anymore. Feeling disconnected from society, from humanity. One day I will be dead and nothing will matter anymore. In the meantime, I don't buy into any reason to live or contribute.
One positive note: my back has been getting steadily better since the end of august.
I think the anti-depressants are finally kicking in. After like 4 months.
I think it took a while because I wasn't taking them consistently, mostly due to interference caused by cannabis. Simply put, I could not ingest both on the same day to avoid unpleasant effects, so I would skip medication multiple times a week. 3 weeks ago I had my last joint.
Feeling more solid.
Back and neck pain have dropped significantly. This on its own is like a prayer answered. Dealing with chronic pain was
I'm continuing this charade?
Each day an overtime.
No one can understand.
Absolutely no one.
I must be doing something wrong.
I can only say I'm sorry to myself, cause I don't know what else to do.
A nagging question in my mind is if my actions, thoughts and words are really mine.
I acknowledge my sensations and emotions as mine, but sometimes I feel/wonder if the rest of my being could be a sort of cassette player, playing whatever my parents and society put in there.
How could I feel more ownership of my being, words, thoughts and actions?
Perhaps I'm not listening to my desires. Do I put other ppls needs first? Distracting myself could help as well.
I see open doors and invitations I don't want.
Feeling out of place.
I hate when the only opportunities around are ones that lead to things I already did and want to move away from.
Yet I feel like I'm missing out on this past life.
The egg is not hatching.
The baby is not coming out.
It died in the womb.
It is decomposing and poisoning the host.
Whatever state it is in, it needs to come out.
In the meantime I live the vanilla proletariat life.
I'm sending the wrong signals a
As a child I would sometimes imagine what it would be like to be confined inside a block of concrete, within a space having the same shape and volume as me, with tubes connected to the exterior to eat, breath and evacuate waste.
At the time it saw it as a sort of anguishing thought experiment. Now when I look back I think it was a reflection of how I was feeling inside.
A human being maintained and limited to biological existence. Powerless, without any options. Getting out not even conceiva
Part 1: I receive news that I have cancer.
Part 2: Doctors tell me that they removed a vertebra in my lower back. I don't feel any difference except the pain is gone.
Part1: Something, an emotion perhaps, is eating away at me.
Part 2: Positive: Something that was causing pain has been removed from my life. Might refer to a colleague I fell in love with and who is leaving the company.
One of my dreams for many years was to have a big heartbreak.
I had never had one and felt I was missing out. I knew it was a symptom of my inability to fall in love.
Then it happened. I fell in love. For the first time in two decades. She was not available. There was no possibility. I was, and still am, crushed.
I'm living the dream.
I'm glad I now have the ability to attach myself.
This came with a price.
I found out that the other side of love is loss.
The more you love some
A knight was mandated by the king to save the princess locked prisoner in an underground network of caves deep within a mountain.
There he fought and slayed countless foul creatures: minotaurs, beholders, goblins, and even a dragon.
Within the last deepest chamber he found the princess. She was hanging by a rope wrapped around her wrists. Underneath her, a pit.
The knight approached the chasm. It was dark with a foul smell. Strange noises were coming from it. Using a torch he cou
I think my attachment to her reveals how sad my life is, how lonely I am inside.
It shows there are things missing in my life.
What are these things?
This longing for something impossible might be a memory of my childhood desire for love and acceptance.
I'm reenacting the desire to have my parents provide warmth, encouragement, support.
Endless loop of longing for something impossible.
I can't forget her because I must remember what happened when I was a child.
I wish I could take a pill and forget about her.
She's like my default thought and obsession.
Being away from her didn't help.
I feel weaponless.
She got me.
I'm under her hold for god knows how long.
I overcame many things in my life.
This I don't know how to.
I'm in my childhood home with my mom and brother. The neighbor comes in and talks to us with disrespect and intimidates us. There is a feeling of powerlessness and of being under the rule of a tyrant. He goes away. I'm by myself and start a rant and scream at a flat tv that contains pictures. I pretend like I'm talking to my father and denounce how he claims to be so high class and superior, yet treated my mom, brother and I like crap. After I'm done ranting to the tv screen I go away and notice
A squirrel steals something from another one which jumps on the thief's back and clings to it. They are both immobile as the one below won't let go of what it stole, and the one on top won't let go of the thief. I walk by and am astounded that they don't run away. I try to intimidate them by walking closer to them. They turn towards me, still clinging to each other, and they approach me. I get scared of getting fleas from them and go away.
The dream illustrates something I
Russian prisoners who work in a Nazi base learn that their captors plan to **** them even in the case of victory.
They steal cars and manage to leave the base. After 3 days, 3 out of 4 escapees are recaptured and killed.
All throughout the dream I am a spectator and feel like I'm seeing a past event.
I find myself admiring the Russians' courage and ability to engineer an escape attempt.
The dream reflects my childhood and how inhumane emotionally it was. I haven't
I'm in a huge hangar with the singer Maynard. It contains all the garbage that we have thrown away in the past, including food left overs.
There is no odour. For this reason I say it's a good thing the climate is not tropical.
I find a shirt. It's not beautiful, and looks a little wrinkled, yet I encourage Maynard to replace the one he is wearing with it.
He accepts. He doesn't want me to look while he changes, while saying jokingly that he cast spells so that I wouldn't be able to see.
I spent 20 years without having a crush, infatuation or falling in love.
At 16 I had a crush on a girl. Then nothing for two decades.
All these years I was extremely independent to say the least. I had a few relationships, but not one created attachment.
My heart was not available for some reason.
I was an emotional Robinson Crusoe.
I started taking Remeron around 2008. It was very helpful, helped me become active, in combination with a low dose of Wellbutrin.
Last June I felt it
Eating hot-dogs to nourish my soul
Asking for lemons and rejecting mangoes and strawberries
Can I really navigate life? Can I really take care of myself?
I want things and reject opportunities to reach them
I'm a self-hypocrite
I'm completetely disconnected from myself. I can't find my way in life. Nothing is coming together. I don't trust my will and desires. I'm not good at taking care of myself. I seek what is bad for me and reject what is good. I overblow every problem into a tragedy. I'm subjugated by my past, my parents education and society. I don't like where this is leading.
It's so easy for me to be full of sh*t.
Someone will ask my opinion of something, and I'll hide behind banalities, or an overly analytical, forced, homework-style answer, rather than speak with my heart.
To let my heart speak requires I pause for an instant, and feel what's inside of me. First there is a feeling, and speech translates those feelings into words.
Probing my heart is more work, yet the results are more satisfying, and I'm not left with the feeling of being full of sh*t.