Kas_Can_Fly
Diamond Member
It seems like no matter how hard I try, I always have too much to fight off. But I can't stop fighting one or two things, or even all of it for a short while because then I'll collapse under them. I can't do this any more. I don't want to fight and even if I did, I don't have the energy to continue or the power to make a difference. I've told my therapist, who told me tell my mum and social worker, I then told my mum, who phoned my social worker for me. He then said he would visit again on Monday morning, but that he would let the crisis team know and to phone them if I need to (or have my mum do it for me). But I don't want to tell anyone that I feel bad all over again, it didn't make a difference the first three times. Plus the crisis team are terrible and last time made me feel so even more worthless and they ignored my pain and trivialised it.
I can't keep up with everything and it's all too much. I can't and don't want to fight. I can't breathe for myself anymore. Why when I told people did they not take me seriously again, it wasn't an over dramatisation, to the contrary, it was minimising what I'm struggling with and is still me trying to hide how bad I really am, but it should have been enough to let them know. I let them know I was suicidal and that I had a plan a and a plan b, that I actually had so many plans, it would be more a case of whatever was closest when the time came.
Why does it feel like they won't believe me until I do it and then it will be too late? Does it have to be that way? But when I ask for help, because although suicide is not the right answer, but it's the only answer I have, I suppose I hoped for another answer or the offer of psychiatric life-support until another answer turned up. Because this is all too much and I can't stand anymore. No more pain, No more short-straws, No more losing every battle, No more fighting that I never wanted in the first place, No more anything.
Why is it good that I don't want to self-harm, if I have replaced it with a death wish?
I know it's not good to feel this way, I know it's not rational, I realise if I had the will to stick it out that it would most likely pass and that I will probably regret it. I realise that because I realise this is all wrong and the fact that I'm enormously disturbed that my honest cry for help was overlooked, probably means I'm not actually that unstable. But somehow it's giving me a push towards it, a childish "well when I'm dead they'll realise they should have listened", while desperately hoping someone will stop me before it happens while at the same time wishing that I succeed because it would be such a relief and I really can't keep fighting and at the same time thinking I'll regret posting this because my mind will suddenly change overnight and it'll seem like I'm creating drama and attention seeking. Plus I'll feel stupid and exposed and defensive.
But I don't know what else to do. Maybe if I talk about it, it will go away, but I don't want to talk about it in case it's overlooked and underestimated again. I don't feel like I'm being taken seriously but I am very serious.
I'm so tired and I really, truly don't have it in me to fight any more and I don't want to either - it's a losing battle and it's not mine, I don't know how I got dragged into it in the first place. I just want to lay down my sword and sleep undisturbed, the war can carry on without me and I'll be just another one of those who couldn't survive.
I'm sorry for being a downer but I'm really not OK.
I can't keep up with everything and it's all too much. I can't and don't want to fight. I can't breathe for myself anymore. Why when I told people did they not take me seriously again, it wasn't an over dramatisation, to the contrary, it was minimising what I'm struggling with and is still me trying to hide how bad I really am, but it should have been enough to let them know. I let them know I was suicidal and that I had a plan a and a plan b, that I actually had so many plans, it would be more a case of whatever was closest when the time came.
Why does it feel like they won't believe me until I do it and then it will be too late? Does it have to be that way? But when I ask for help, because although suicide is not the right answer, but it's the only answer I have, I suppose I hoped for another answer or the offer of psychiatric life-support until another answer turned up. Because this is all too much and I can't stand anymore. No more pain, No more short-straws, No more losing every battle, No more fighting that I never wanted in the first place, No more anything.
Why is it good that I don't want to self-harm, if I have replaced it with a death wish?
I know it's not good to feel this way, I know it's not rational, I realise if I had the will to stick it out that it would most likely pass and that I will probably regret it. I realise that because I realise this is all wrong and the fact that I'm enormously disturbed that my honest cry for help was overlooked, probably means I'm not actually that unstable. But somehow it's giving me a push towards it, a childish "well when I'm dead they'll realise they should have listened", while desperately hoping someone will stop me before it happens while at the same time wishing that I succeed because it would be such a relief and I really can't keep fighting and at the same time thinking I'll regret posting this because my mind will suddenly change overnight and it'll seem like I'm creating drama and attention seeking. Plus I'll feel stupid and exposed and defensive.
But I don't know what else to do. Maybe if I talk about it, it will go away, but I don't want to talk about it in case it's overlooked and underestimated again. I don't feel like I'm being taken seriously but I am very serious.
I'm so tired and I really, truly don't have it in me to fight any more and I don't want to either - it's a losing battle and it's not mine, I don't know how I got dragged into it in the first place. I just want to lay down my sword and sleep undisturbed, the war can carry on without me and I'll be just another one of those who couldn't survive.
I'm sorry for being a downer but I'm really not OK.