In my previous posts I said that I was dealing with suicidal ideation (among other things) and waiting to be put on proper medication for a bipolar 1 diagnosis. I started the medication a week ago, I was put on an atypical anti-psychotic. I feel like I am getting 'better' yet worse at the same time. I feel like the medication is pushing me out of my inner fantasy world and into reality, and is eroding my little disassociation bubble. The reality of my life is becoming increasingly apparent to me and "in my face" so to speak. That is probably a good thing and probably means I am getting "better". However the reality of my life is kind of terrible. I've been through tons of bad things one after the other throughout my life, and right now my life is completely empty. I have no friends, no hobbies (though I might have them if I could afford them - I can't), no pet (pets have always been a major mood lifter for me in the past), just nothingness. I am unemployed and am finding it very hard to get a job due to my mental health problems combined with the poor job market in general. I feel like I am coming completely undone and am desperately flailing around for something good and enjoyable to grab onto, but there is nothing like that in my life. It is making me feel even more suicidal than I was feeling previously. I have stopped eating because I keep fantasizing about starving to death, and I have lost my appetite completely, anyway. Not eating makes me feel a little more relaxed, like at least I am working my way towards an out. However my mother (whom I live with) has been bragging openly for months about how much money she has and makes. The most recent brag from her was that just one of her bank accounts has over $10,000 of just fun spending money in it, just to spend on whatever fun things she wants for herself. This does not include her accounts full of money for vacations and cruises with her husband (also lives here), or accounts meant for paying bills and such. So since she has been bragging so often about her wealth, I thought maybe it was worth it to be vulnerable and explain to her that I really need something enjoyable in my life right now, a hobby, a pet, just something to hold onto and look forward to each day. Because for the past several months my life has consisted of just being isolated, home-ridden, pacing in circles and talking to myself alone all day, and now trying to adjust to this medication is pushing me over the edge. She responded by suggesting that maybe I could do more chores around the house for her, or do her grocery shopping for her, to keep myself occupied. It was such a passive-aggressive little F-you response from her that afterwards I experienced making up my mind. I definitely want out of this life now. I am practically disabled and trapped with this cold statue of a parent and nothing enjoyable to hold onto. I just don't want to eat anything. I just want to quietly and peacefully fade away.