Hello all. As you can see from the (what I view as) cheerful happy font/color, I do TRY to be happy. I try to be well as well. Sometimes I indulge my "crazy," but isn't it necessary sometimes?
I'm here because for the longest time I've been way depressed. I even got the nifty title of Major Depressive Disorder & Panic/Anxiety Disorder. Aren't I lucky? Through my own research I'm pretty sure I have Borderline Personality Disorder, but I have to find some more bucks to shell out before I can get that shiny title. The last year I've been trying multiple antidepressants and while I probably get out of bed more, overall they don't do much for me. I'm 5-2 and less than 100 pounds so you think SOMETHING would soak into my system, but I guess not.
I'm here today because the love of my life killed himself two months ago. In two days he will be buried for two months. All my before "messed-upness" is just compounded by his death to an extreme I can barely bare. I'll leave the rest of his/our story for another forum section.
Currently, I ran away from my cousin (I'm 25, but have a hard time with life things like a job, and bills ect). I mowed the lawn yesterday with one of those mechanical push mowers and I thought how FUNNY my love would have thought that was. I wanted to tell him SO badly. I wanted to tell him to get his butt over there and mow it for me, manly man that his is/was. I broke down and sobbed thinking he'll never mow that lawn, his lawn, or worse of all... OUR possible future lawn.
I decided it would be a good idea to drink 4 Alaskan ale (yum) and steal two of my cousins klonapine. I make the mistake of txting my brother telling him about it and the next thing I know, the WHOLE family knows. Next morning the bottle of pills was gone. So I packed up my car and drove to the ocean. I have an idea of living in my car now with my little dog, but we'll see how I fell in the morning.
I'll be 26 in two months. I despise myself and the one thing that made me happy (a problem in itself) is gone forever. If he could do it (by hanging no less) why can't I? I just can't get to that point though.
So this is me. Everyone else I know (friends, family) are either tired of hearing of my love's death (it's ALL I think about) or they think I need to be locked up because I'm coocooforcoacoapuffs.
I hope I can tell my story here and know that these feelings are legit. Now I'm off to tell my love's story in the remember part.
Nice to meet you all!
I'm here because for the longest time I've been way depressed. I even got the nifty title of Major Depressive Disorder & Panic/Anxiety Disorder. Aren't I lucky? Through my own research I'm pretty sure I have Borderline Personality Disorder, but I have to find some more bucks to shell out before I can get that shiny title. The last year I've been trying multiple antidepressants and while I probably get out of bed more, overall they don't do much for me. I'm 5-2 and less than 100 pounds so you think SOMETHING would soak into my system, but I guess not.
I'm here today because the love of my life killed himself two months ago. In two days he will be buried for two months. All my before "messed-upness" is just compounded by his death to an extreme I can barely bare. I'll leave the rest of his/our story for another forum section.
Currently, I ran away from my cousin (I'm 25, but have a hard time with life things like a job, and bills ect). I mowed the lawn yesterday with one of those mechanical push mowers and I thought how FUNNY my love would have thought that was. I wanted to tell him SO badly. I wanted to tell him to get his butt over there and mow it for me, manly man that his is/was. I broke down and sobbed thinking he'll never mow that lawn, his lawn, or worse of all... OUR possible future lawn.
I decided it would be a good idea to drink 4 Alaskan ale (yum) and steal two of my cousins klonapine. I make the mistake of txting my brother telling him about it and the next thing I know, the WHOLE family knows. Next morning the bottle of pills was gone. So I packed up my car and drove to the ocean. I have an idea of living in my car now with my little dog, but we'll see how I fell in the morning.
I'll be 26 in two months. I despise myself and the one thing that made me happy (a problem in itself) is gone forever. If he could do it (by hanging no less) why can't I? I just can't get to that point though.
So this is me. Everyone else I know (friends, family) are either tired of hearing of my love's death (it's ALL I think about) or they think I need to be locked up because I'm coocooforcoacoapuffs.
I hope I can tell my story here and know that these feelings are legit. Now I'm off to tell my love's story in the remember part.
Nice to meet you all!