I'm debating if I should get on an antidepressant to get through this breakup without, uh, killing myself. I'm not sleeping, I'm not leaving the house, I'm barely eating, I cry all the time. I'm flaking out on friends I want to see, on things I want to do, and people are noticing. My dance teacher even, and she barely knows me, but she's intuitive enough to have emailed me, and is the only person who cares, because she's the only person who has seen me.
I hate the idea of pharmaceuticals. I think they're evil, overall. But I lack the support network and positive environment I need to recover from this. I keep ingesting greater and greater quantities of marijuana edibles and wine and gin, at any hour when the pain in my chest becomes too unbearable. I know I'm giving myself cancer with all this suffering and I'm trying to minimize it but even with my best efforts I'm feeling very unbalanced, and yes, having fantasies about throwing myself off the roof about every other day, which would be very easy to do, and which is part of the reason I think I'm locking myself in my home for weeks now without any human contact or hugs or sex or friends or love. Just me and a cat. So, pretty much a great way to go crazy. Hence, my idea about antidepressants.
I don't know. I'll think about it for another day or so. Maybe I can just get through this awful hump, or just get a friggin plane ticket to a new place and find someone new to erase my pain for a few months. And keep doing it every few months so I can get rid of these men before they start taking me for granted, like always. Being taken for granted is a common theme now. It even happened with a friend recently, which is much rarer. So, I'm on a roll as far as being a doormat!
I'm going to keep dancing. I'm going to stop avoiding that girl who likes me and just toss myself into people till one feels like it will last longer than a minute. And maybe get the courage and energy to move. Because I can't make the ones I love love me back or treat me the way I ask. So I need to accept that this concept I once believed in doesn't work and the only one who gives a damn if I live or die is me. :( People aren't what I thought they were. Whoops.
On that note, I'm going to keep going with my things I'm grateful for as a suicide prevention measure. Today I'm grateful I didn't yet kill myself. I thought about taking the elevator to the roof and just jumping tonight. But instead I had a wine and cried and wrote. So I'm grateful I'm still alive because it means maybe there's another worthwhile future ahead. I want to be happy again.
I'm also grateful for marijuana and wine. I think I said the same thing yesterday. Oh well. It helps numb the tossing turning churning waves of deep pain in my gut.
I'm also grateful for my cat. Probably mentioned that before too. But she's the only one who hasn't left my side when I cry.
4:38 a.m. - 2018-03-08