Depression

       My depression has finally gotten so bad that, I needed actual help. I even tried to end my life. I'm not sure if I actually really did wanted to kill myself, because obviously, I'm not dead. I did cut my wrist a couple of times, to see how it's done before cutting my veins and letting myself bleed out and die at a specific place. Twice I went there wanting to die, and help was there to stop me. Even at my most desperate moment, I was still struggling and crying out to people to help me. 

I had an interesting venture at the mental hospital due to my 2nd failed attempt of killing myself. I wasn't convinced that it was an attempt since I chicken out and didn't actually cut my veins. I was forced to go don to the mental health to be assess, and than forced to be admitted into their wards. 

I was so upset, so sad. The doctor convinced me that it was for my own good and to protect myself.  she said it was a little bit like "tough love". I felt sure that she was lying. The whole ordeal was so traumatizing and overwhelming. I felt like bursting into tears, but I held it all in as usual.

The whole experience was so surreal, it actually didn't turn out as bad as i thought, I met up with people who had the same experience. There was basically nothing to do there, like a prison with better treatments.

Until now, I still do not know if I really wanted to die, because if I did, I would be dead now and not writing this long post. I wished I was, but the act, scared me. The act of slashing my veins and watching myself bleed out. Maybe I did too much research, and read the part about the body kicking in its self def to survive. Body temperature would drop to extreme cold levels to try and save myself or some shit. It's just so hard to imagine myself bleeding out and freezing, waiting for myself to die. Someone wrote that to die in such a way, is so sad. I felt like it suited me, because I am sad.

To be honest, the stay in imh really did helped me. There was 0 stress level since basically you had nothing to do and you're cut off from the outside world since you have no access to your phone. We played games and chit chat, even make jokes about our suicide methods. I honestly thought that I felt better, even thought that I was better. 

After being discharged.. really don't feel like talking about her.

I guess after a few days, my stress, worries, all came back. That constant thought to die is back.

It feels to me that, I've struggled for a long time, and I'm so tired that I wish i could stop living. It feels like my life really doesn't matter that much. I have someone who constantly says that to me for so many years, it's hard not to start believing every toxic thing that she says.