At the moment I'm weaning myself off one drug so I can't eventually begin a new med regime - all with psychiatrists knowledge btw. I've had the most dreadful cold for over a week now. So between the depression, anxiety, bdd, ocd, etc etc - plus the withdrawal and the cold, my life couldn't feel any more bleak. Or could it? Tonight I've lost my voice completely. I live totally alone and my mood has taken a dramatic nose dive. Feeling suicidal but can't phone any of the support services because of the loss of voice. I'm in a pretty desperate state. So here I am. Sorry. You know when you think life can't feel any more dire and then ... it does. I'm so tired. Physically, mentally. I can't stop coughing, my nose runs continually, my throat is killing me (oh the irony) and I'm running a temperature. I haven't showered in over a week. I want out. Why the hell am I keeping going? It's a short walk to the kitchen where I have lots of lovely drugs that could just make all this pain go away permanently. God I hate my whining. I hate myself. I hate myself. It was an ugly twist of fate that I was ever born. I've lost the rationale to know why I need to be here. Please ... someone convince me that this too will pass.