TW: suicidal thoughts

I (25f) don’t know why my mind is so fixated on these fucking thoughts. Why the fuck am I still affected after so long (6 months post breakup, we only dated for 6 months it was an ldr), I still cry, it’s so pathetic, I know why. Because I literally have nothing going on for me. First few months were hell but at least I wasn’t suicidal, maybe I was just in shock. And my brain was really just in shock. But now, I still think of it and sometimes I want to off myself out of spite. I don’t think I was ever suicidal when I was 17 (was in an emotionally abusive situationship for 2 years). Why is it so different now. I keep thinking of him and like how piece of a shit he was (it’s my way of coping the pain) and I think I am even more a piece of shit myself for thinking that. It’s like my brain is addicted to these fucking thoughts. Who the fuck do I confide to, who do I say I want to fucking kill myself to, nobody wants to hear that. I became so selfish w these thoughts, at least in last episode I still had guilt, I helped around the house, I cooked for my parents and then I had a whole “hypomanic” episode the year after, blaming my fucking parents, my mom specially (she didn’t think i needed help, I suppose cause she didn’t know better) I tell my mom I’m suicidal a couple of times. Then I just decided to shut off cause nobody wants to hear that fucking shit. Ha I just say ya I’ve been diagnosed w bipolar, and I’m depressed. But guess what I think of shit like should I do carbon monoxide, OD, or go the forest and starve, dehydrate myself for 3-4 days (I was high and got lost in a forest a year ago and when I came out alive I was filled with gratitude plus I had just started dating). Now in my mind “it’s like nah I can’t go back there cause I can’t be arsed to drive”. Then came helium, I thought about helium, I even went online to check out the prices of helium, how much liters I should purchase.

I don’t want to hear shit like time heals, everything is a fucking trigger, anything I see relationship wise is a trigger, even the game I was playing was a trigger, I don’t see myself being a mom, I don’t see myself getting married, I just don’t want to get better, I don’t fucking know. (Last year I had a whole calling, i wanted to carry his kids, and plus I was working in preschool because of it, and also because my motto was all about embracing inner childhood). I have since quit because of the break up. I remember the next day at work I had a sudden switch, I didn’t care about the kids. At that point, I really questioned myself if I’m capable of becoming a mother.

I’ve been through the highs and I thought that was who I was, I 100% identified with that reality, until the break up. Coming to terms with the fact that it was a hypomanic episode, my fucking reality crumbled hard and my ego died again.

When I was in the midst of familial tension (yelling matches with my father because he wanted to advise me about getting out of the forest faster - we had a whole debate of existence of God, he’s a strong atheist), I had a moment of ego death, or so I thought. I cried like a fucking animal walking around in circles in my room, listening to some Native American beats, I thought that was ego death, but then I was okay because in my head I had him, and I had us.

I don’t talk to my friends anymore, I only am kinda normal with my colleagues at a remote job. I’m functioning normally at work because it’s remote. fuck man, if I do work in person, I’m just scared of the same patterns happening again, my second depressive episode was due to work. It’s like a fucking pattern, I start overthinking and being on edge, then I start having horrible anxiety at work.

Who the do I tell these thoughts to, my friends? Who wants to hear this shit. My psychiatrist? All they fucking ask is how’s the meds, how do u feel, just shut up.

You know what’s funny, I’m actually psychology graduate, the fucking irony.

Can you fucking believe I went from running 10 km a day to fucking binge eating at night not walking even 1km a day. I always say I run for mental health, then I fucking stopped after the break up. It’s like even if I get better I know the moment when it fucking hits again, it’s a fucking living hell.

I know I’m in a position of privilege, I stay w my parents, I don’t have financial responsibilities, my parents are supportive, my mom picks up my fucking shit. I stopped doing chores, I just eat, sleep, work, rinse and repeat.

What kind of person am I? The thought of putting on an oxygen mask connected to a helium tank, sleeping on my bed, cracking up the ac, fuck I don’t even feel connected to my fucking pets, my dog literally stays up w me when I work, every time I take a shit he follows, I told him so many times he can just sleep but he still follows, oh my old pup.

Anyway back to hooking up on an oxygen mask, that and just a final last painless breath, then I can stop everything, and just stop existing.

This is why I’m so fucking scared of depression, it usually starts with anxiety first, then it creeps into this headspace. I start becoming someone I despise, full of negativity and apathy, somehow it slowly becomes comforting.

I’m so sorry you had to read this.