Another option. 

 “Don’t drink alcohol with it. You can die.” 

They should really think twice about how they phrase things. It was a new prescription so I had no idea. A simple “don’t drink” would’ve sufficed. 

Thank you, friendly neighborhood pharmacist.  

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My time. 

 

Horrible pun, but it’s still funny

 

Permit applied for.  It’ll take about two weeks. It’ll take longer than than that for me to make arrangements. I don’t want to leave a mess for my family to deal with. 

The new purpose of this blog is to leave a record so that they’ll know how I felt. They can come to whatever rationalizations they want, but I’ll at least have the opportunity to say my piece. Without dismissive “oh it’ll get better.” or “God heals.” or “you can’t have everything you want.” 

Everything? I prayed for God to send me a man who could beat the crap out of me just so I could have someone – and I still wasn’t good enough to get someone like that. That hardly sounds like “everything.” now I’m old and surrounded by friends with good jobs, marriages and families I’ll never have. I don’t expect people – particularly women – to understand. We can get some guy whenever we want to, right? Think twice the next time you say that because there’s.someone like me out there who can’t, regardless of how much weight she loses, or changes her eye color, or completely eliminates her standards. She can’t do the basic thing that most women should be able to do – attract a guy. Any guy. Rapists. Pedophiles. Any guy. Do you have any idea how worthless and incompetent that makes you feel? Chances are most women don’t because they haven’t experienced it. 

But whatever. This is my time. No more praying to or bargaining with God (be grateful!) or hoping tomorrow will be different. Time to make plans to get out of this shit and, oddly, that makes me feel a little bit better about getting up in the morning. And tomorrow I get to see my doctor so I can stockpile on meds and have options in case the gun thing doesn’t work out. It’s funny because I’m such a fuck-up at trying to make good things happen that I know death is going to be a cakewalk. 

But my blog won’t be all sad. I’ll leave behind photos I take or things I find funny. I’m still living; it’s just that I know I won’t have to suffer for much longer. We should all be so lucky. 

Have you hugged your dealer today?

How does one find drugs?

I missed this lesson in school. I’ve never even smoked pot because I have no idea where to get it. I feel like like would be so much better if I could come home, take a hit of something and feel good for a bit. However you can’t really put out a Craigslist ad for drugs. Plus I look like a narc. 

Then I of course have the fear that if I did find someone they’d be a narc and I’d be arrested – and I still wouldn’t have gotten high!

I’ll have to keep my eyes open and some money in my pocket. I have no idea what stuff even costs. Shame. 

Simple math. 

  

Preparations. 

I’m buying boxes today. I don’t want my family to have to deal with packing my place. It’ll be good to get rid of stuff. 

I need to check my insurance policy to make sure there’s enough money for burial and whatnot.  

I also need to make sure that they won’t be responsible for student loan debt or the small amounts on my credit card. 

Luckily my lease is up in a few months so I’ll have time to pack and get ready. 

10,000 Maniacs

I’m going to leave this behind. The author beautifully stated everything I cannot say or that people don’t want to hear. More of the latter usually.

Missus Fissure

How many times in your life have you felt out of control? I’m not talking party animal, too drunk to function, throw up in the Arby’s bathroom, I’m talking about your brain operating so fast that you can’t make heads or tails of anything that you’re thinking. For some people, bipolar is a mixture of depression and mania. I am one of those people. I have experienced depression as well as manic depression, or a mixed-state, but never true mania without the depressive undertones. You would think that being a mixture of manic and depressive could lead to a balance of sorts, because one should even out the other. This however, is not the case. Manic depression is terrifying because your wheels are turning at an incomprehensible speed, and you are powerless to stop them. The thoughts and feelings I have are almost never productive or helpful, and it is…

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im ready

  
I was supposed to get a Phd today. It was the only thing I had left 

Instead, my mom is dead, I’m in a job I hate and I want to die. I’m almost 40. I’m alone and I can’t keep trying things that won’t work

If anyon is interested in doing this together message me. There’s comfort in not having to die alone

Disappointment

He perfectly captured how I feel.

Poetry From The Loft

I am not what I wanted to be,
Disappointment.
I am not what I wanted to see,
Disappointment.

Shackled in a life of poverty,
Disappointment.
Living and dying respectively,
Disappointment.

Wasting a life unexpectedly,
Disappointment.
Life is a song of tragedy,
Disappointment.

Come take a walk with me,
Disappointment.
Come see the life I see,
Disappointment.

A poem by: Garry Ventura

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Anhedonia

I started taking some meds. I can’t see a way out. At all. 
The Dr said it might take a month to kick in. I don’t think my life is worth saving. I don’t care. I just want it to be over. 

When the weather looks how you feel