Oh geez, here we go again. Truth? Whatever..

Fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,everythingissodamnfake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake,fake!

I hate it when I feel this way;like everything around me, the people and places,the emotions I "feel",the thoughts I have about myself and others, it all seems like one big stupid lie. Like I'm a lie in every way, even my existence. I hear a ringing,but I'm not sure if it's electricity or my tinnitis. vgiughfiuhaoewigfviuiupeagbdrfviuaewiudfhpiachudsigubviupcwhdiupfhviuheiudfhviuehpaifudvhiuehfiupgvhipeuafhdvppwiuerhgfviupwiuperfvhpwefupqwiu[hfeoquefp

BLARG!

My moods have been up and down so many times it's unbearable.. It's probably because my sleep pattern has been suffering lately. Even still, I've been having persistent depressing thoughts for quite awhile again,but I don't really want to do anything about them.. I know I could medicate or self-medicate and prolly do at least SOMETHING, but I don't want to risk making it any worse. If it gets worse... well, it's been a long time since I've tried to kill myself, and I'd really really like to keep it that way. The last time I did, in fact, was.. just a few days before my last birthday,and that turned out messy >_< Note to all who read: don't ever try to OD on well over 50 sleeping pills with alcohol.. It's a slow,agonizing death that could leave you permanently fucked up if you don't die(in a bad way). It's actually really surprising that I tried to die right then, I mean.. I had generally been doing so much better. How many times have I tried to kill myself,anyways? Huh, I never really tried to tally, so let's see what I can remember.. Oh, and to this day my parents still don't know that I ever tried to kill myself, but they do know that I've been suicidal before because of the writings they stole from me >_>
~~
First time: 10th grade, self-injury with knife or something and bleeding in hot shower, planned aspirin OD, didn't follow through with latter part, still have the scars. I thought I was possesed by the devil or at least some evil spirit. I thought I was a burden to the people in my life and I would be better dead to the people who did care about me. To the people who didn't care.. well,what did it matter to them?

Second time: 10th grade, pill mixing (Zonigram and Geodon), took something like 14 pills and thought it was enough to be lethal(harharhar), it wasn't -.- Surprisingly,though,they did interact and it was one of the closest times I ever came to death and I did pass out thinking I was going to die. Still thought I was possesed and I pretty much felt the same way as I did last time for the most part.

Third time: 10th grade, alcohol mixing and alot of it, I got really,really sick. I threw up and passed out eventually, but didn't die. I think I drank over 20 oz of 40% altogether, and while there was a poisonous reaction from mixing, I didn't intend for it to happen, nor was this really so much of a definite suicide attempt. If anything it was more of a "I'm going to drink more alcohol than I think my body can take and hope I die. If I do, oh well. If I don't, f***, oh well. There's always tomorrow." Michael found this amusing. (this may have been later on in 11th grade, I don't remember so well. I wonder why xD) By now I had realized that me fucking up my life was me fucking up my life, though this just added to my own sense of self-hatred. I thought everything was completely beyond my control and I was fresh-out of hope.


Fourth time:10th grade summer Concerta,Adderall,Prozac,Lamictal,Fluvoxemine, Aspirin, Geodon,Zonigram,Abilify, and a bunch of other crap meds I can't remember. This time I was really,really hoping for an interaction.. again I passed out, but.. I woke up pale, and my parents asked if I was okay because I looked like death and I told them I was fine.. ahahaah. They believed it. Funny how people see what they want to see(or is most convinient), especially if the truth is ugly. This thought was depressing..

Fifth: 11th grade(night before) band camp,Adderall and Lamictal oversdose, don't remember how much I took but I know it was alot. I was hoping to just be dead because I was tired of my consistent inability to do anything right. I was a failure at everything,to everyone, and from every day up until that I had only been kidding myself into thinking otherwise. My life was a lie,and I was fake.

Sixth time: 11th grade, Extreme concerta overdose(way over LD-50), I actually went to school this day, and didn't care if I just randomly died during it,either. I kinda hoped I would,actually, so maybe then all the stupid idiots of the world would realize what kind of suffering people go through on a day-to-day basis as they flaunt their state of bliss. Yes, I know this was selfish.. kind of.

Seventh time: I went to the train tracks near my house because something compelled me to sneak out of my window in the middle of the night and visit. My thoughts would not stop, and like the many times before, I would give anything in that moment to make that happen. I sat down near the tracks,but by the time I had gotten there,my mood had already lifted to the point that not only did I have energy, but I wasn't in an agitated, mixed-episode of depression. I went home.

Eigth time: I went to the train tracks again determined not to be side-tracked by petty feelings of adequecy that came from nothing. "My previous happiness was all a lie," I thought, "and none of it was ever real." What was happiness,anyways? Had I ever experienced such a thing? Even if I experienced a state of mind that made me feel like there was some hint of reason for me living, wouldn't it just fade again? I drank alcohol,deciding not to say good-bye to anyone, and waited for a train. I first sat next to the tracks,watching a train pass by very close to me and noted that a police car was right at the intersection that wasn't too far down,and the cop seemed to be sitting there for quite awhile. "Will he do anything?" I wnondered,but ultimately he drove off. "Great," I said aloud laughing at the sattirical situation,"I'm just another victim of the bystander effect."
I lied down on the tracks,closed my eyes and took in the feeling for awhile.. nobody knew me. Nobody cared. Nobody would expect to be right there,right then, I would think. I opened my eyes and then I saw something beautiful.. the sky. I was filled with this renewed sense of wonder and pulled out a notepad and started to write. Eventually,after writing for awhile, I staggered off of the tracks and fell down the rocks drunkly and upon landing tore my pants, which were greasy from the oil on the tracks. I somehow managed to get home inside without raising any suspicions,even when my mom found my torn and greasy pants in the laundry.

Ninth: 11th grade, I oded on ibuprofen thinking that "Hey, there are statistics that people have died because of this medication. If I take enough, maybe I'll finally be dead. Finally." but of course there were other reasons why,too.. My inner voice can tear me apart worse than any person outside of myself in this world ever could,period. I went to school that day,too,after overdosing that night and I can tell you that being sick was an understatement. I left psychology to puke my guts out for a good half-an-hour. I still felt like crap, and I was kinda hoping my organs were failing as a reward for how much I suffered. Maybe there were, but not fast enough. I didn't die,so yeah.

Tenth: 11th grade summer,this is the big one. I intentionally looked up how many sleeping pills it would take to kill most people and I swallowed as many as I could after drinking a few shots of alcohol(at least). What the hell,man.. I first felt like I had to go to the bathroom after my perception was all screwed up, and I threw up in the toilet sooooo much. It was green, and it was really weird, but to get over to the bathroom and move at all was extremely difficult. I was wobbling all over the place and once I sat down I wasn't sure if I'd ever be able to get up again. Using all my strength after wretching my guts out of my body, I made it back into my bedroom,landed on my bed and passed out. I woke up several times that night,and I was covered in vommit when I did.. I could barely breathe anyways, and I just kept praying for the suffering to end, and I felt like the pain was worth it if it took me to that goal, and there WAS pain. A HUGE amount of pain, and there always is when you're dying,I guess. It was the worst I'd ever felt in my life, but even that was bearable if it would end the emotional strife I had gone through for many years.. Passing out,waking up,passing out,waking up, I eventually woke up late the next day, and I was NOT well. My vision was bad, my hearing suffered, and I was scared that I'd be stuck this way forever if I didn't succeed the next time I tried to kill myself. I still have some hearing and vision trouble, but not nearly to that extent, and I never told my parents about my vision. While I did tell them about my hearing, I didn't tell them why it happened..
~~
This cat has more than 9 lives, it seems, though with the severity of some of those attempts, I really wonder how. There were more attempts than these,too, but I can't remember enough details about them to share.. I just know that they happened. There was a few other severe ones, but I don't think they were as severe as some of the ones mentioned here.. I won't really count them. xD Sad, I have so many I classify them based on how much I think they affected me. Nobody knows about this,really.. I never told anybody about all these mishaps, and I doubt anybody would care to know in such detail. If people doubt I'm bipolar or that I was ever truly depressed.. they don't even know half of the truth to the things I go through on a daily basis. I wouldn't even bother to share with them my past and all the reason I believe I have a mood disorder anyways.. with this track record, who wouldn't think I'm a freak or otherwise report me to authorities or something?
I have been better, though.. I have a higher level of self-control and more will-power than I ever did before. My therapist said the biggest obstacle I would have to overcome in my lifetime was my depression, but in saying this she didn't even know how true the words she'd spoken were. I've tried different mood-stabilizers and anti-depressants and anti-psychotics, but they didn't work. Unless I want Shock Therapy(worst fate,worse than hell for me as I'm so uber sensitive to electricity), I'm on my own. I'm not stupid though,despite the stupid actions I had taken.. I truly believe I can survive, and unlike before, I know I have the power to preservere. I will always try my best to make it through;this is my unseen battle that nobody else is aware of. I only have the power to save myself, and this is do or die.