Slowly descending into madness
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2022-08-20 00:51:36 (UTC)

PMDD strikes again

After almost one year, we went on a family trip. 3 days from friday to sunday and by the beach. These days should have been amazing, but I started off by getting high on Thursday. We had football practice, I had the audacity to have an edible hash brown before we went on the field. We played, had a good time, and got back to class. The next day, the airport was fucking swinging, the high was okayish high. Enough for tripping, not enough to hallucinate. The last time I got high was in February. These few months, I was in control because I made a stupid promise to someone that I wouldn't do it. The thing is, he's not in my life anymore, and that kinda gives me the pass to do anything.

I was high for 5/6 days on and off. Face melting, a little bit of tripping, enough to get some good sleep high. I didn't want to break my promise but these constant breakdowns were getting on my nerves. I needed to stop thinking and I needed to stop crying. My plan was to commit suicide having edibles and sleeping in the bathtub. I got this idea from Dolores, late lead singer of the Cranberries. Interesting that I'm still alive because I kind of realized why I've been so depressed lately. I stopped taking birth control pills 2 months ago and PMDD is acting up again. There's nothing normal about this depression, it comes with suicidal tendencies. Tendencies are so acute I don't know how to deal with this. I don't have anyone I can talk to. Not everyone actually understands what I'm going through. I mean, I have tried to explain it, how it feels in my head, and the words cannot actually convey the feeling. The feeling is more dire, I don't know how to deal with this vast emptiness except for being high for 5 days before my period starts. It's not so much fun during period either. I wish I had someone to talk to, but I will not accept any help, I don't think another person can even comprehend this. It sucks when I'm constantly crying and asking myself, "What the fuck went wrong? What did I do? Where did I go wrong?" I keep screaming, I keep looking for answers and there's absolutely nothing but emptiness that words cannot describe. So, I am not even going to try. I can't even comprehend my thoughts, my feelings anymore. I feel like a separate person from my overly complicated trauma I've tried to bury these 23 years. They're locked inside the basement of my memory but they're alive. They knock on the door and I'm reminded of everything I went through, just not completely, but enough to kick me in my guts.

Also, I'm fucking tired of people asking me what's wrong. I went out today with my friends, they keep on asking. My parents keep on asking. Dude, I fucking don't know the answer, I just want to escape. My idea of escape was to go abroad but I don't think it'll solve any problem anymore. I want to escape from my mind. This force stopping mind and brains with edibles, this is a temporary solution. I want a permanent solution now. I can't keep on doing this for 15 days a month wtf. I'm crying because things are getting out of my control and I don't know what will give me a little bit of peace.

June often tells me that if love can make someone stay alive, I would be alive for years and years. Then June tells me that's not how it works, he knows that. He asks me, what's hurting? I tell him I don't know. All I know that, I'm suicidal for 15 days a month and it's just not fucking fair that I have to turn to drugs to numb everything I feel. Then he asked me, How is penguin? I tell him, I don't know. I hope, not worse than me. He asks me whether I fell out of love with him. I tell him, no, I think about him all the time, but I just don't want to talk to him. Suicidal people reeks of bad energy, I reek of bad energy, I can't text him and make it worse for him too. Plus, like we know, love can't really make anyone stay alive.

I wish I could know people who commit suicide, what's the thought they have at their last moment? Do they feel happy that they don't have to pretend to look pretty and okay for other people? or is it endless loop of pain right after they die? Does God forgive them because of the illness they carry inside their head? What happens when you know it's over?