Why do you hate yourself?

1900 - eight nation alliance

Oh, I know why. There is always a why. It starts with one or two thoughts, and then you spiral. You think of more and more reasons you are a worthless piece of shit. Go.

  • Fat
  • Working a job beneath you, yet you stay
  • Lazy
  • Slow
  • A mess
  • Desperate
  • Stupid, go do something worthwhile
  • Under-educated
  • Depressed
  • Disappear tomorrow, no one would fucking care
  • Weak
  • Mentally ill, mentally fucking weak
  • Boring, get a fucking hobby
  • Socially awkward, find a friend
  • Self pietying
  • Pathetic, waste time on this blog you fuck
  • A failure, go get a real education or job
  • A quitter, I probably should even try
  • Scared
  • Crave fucking attention
  • Crazy
  • Whiny, I hate you
  • Fucked
  • Dependent on your meds
  • Poor, fuck you
  • Unhealthy, eat more shit you shit
  • Ugly, why? look above, christ
  • Forgettable, why would they invite you
  • Shitty
  • Friendless, and you deserve it
  • Unlovable
  • Effeminate
  • God damn drug addict
  • Med abuser
  • You use alcohol sometimes to escape your problems
  • Really weak
  • Alone
  • Gay, homo, fag, fairy, fatty
  • Die
  • Christ, fuck you

Current Medication: Nuvigil 250mg, Seroquel XR 200mg, Strattera 100mg, Pristiq 100mg, Memantine 10mg, Lamictal 200mg

Why do you hate yourself?

Are you suicidal?

Are you suicidal? Are you? No?

You feel sad. Are you sad? Is that anxiety. Oh no, god no. Not anxiety, it comes from nowhere. Maybe that is normal stress.

Are you anxious? Please, stop thinking that.

It is so hard to stop thinking that. But you can.

Or not. Death would be nice.

Maybe you should kill yourself.

No! You know that isn’t true.


Depression is exhausting. It has been a bad few weeks since tappering off Seroquel. I gained so much weight on it. I’ve stayed the same weight since fifteen. Not any more, I gained 40lbs in roughly three months. Even though we knew Seroquel helped tremendously, I wanted to try something new.

I’m on Abilify now. Hopefully it starts working in the next few weeks. If not, I’m absolutely going back to Seroquel. Sigh. If I do, I won’t die from this depression. I’ll die from being a fat fat fat gross fuck.


Current Medication: Nuvigil 250mg, Lamictal 200mg, Pristiq 100mg, Abilify 10mg, Trazadone 50mg, Strattera 80mg

Are you suicidal?

Solve any problem, one amazing trick!

– Stressed? Kill yourself.

– Bored? Kill yourself.

– Sad? Kill yourself.

– Excited? Kill yourself.

– Tired? Kill yourself.

– Happy? Kill yourself.

– Angry? Kill yourself.

– Lonely? Kill yourself.

– Jealous? Kill yourself.

– Stressed? Kill yourself.

– Cold? Kill yourself.

– Guilty? Kill yourself.

– Hungover? Kill yourself.

– Entertained? Kill yourself.

– Curios? Kill yourself.

-Kill yourself.

-Kill yourself.

-Kill yourself.

Current Medication: Nuvigil 250mg, Lamictal 200mg, Pristiq 100mg, Abilify 10mg, Trazadone 50mg, Strattera 80mg

Solve any problem, one amazing trick!

Choosing Happiness – You’re Welcome

firefox_2016-10-03_11-25-06“Happiness is a choice,” she said.

“Thanks, of course,” I lied.

What I actually meant? Fuck you. If you believe that, you don’t know real depression, fuck, you have no idea. Sad? No. It is not sadness, at least not what I have, “severe depression.” It is constantly fighting the thought that you are so god damn worthless you should be executed. The executioner, myself. I don’t even believe in capital punishment, it is a racist and barbaric practice. Yet, when it comes to me?

Apparently, I consider myself worse than murders, rapist and terrorist, because in the depths of depression, I entirely believe I should blow my fucking head off. And I fight. God, do I fight. I try to stay positive, remind myself it is just a passing mood, I don’t have a real reason to feel so awful. All of this helps, because happiness is a choice. Fuck. None of it helps. Nothing helps. I wait for the mood to pass. Then I remember that I’m not great, but not horrible enough to merit remove from this planet.

“Happiness is a choice,” she said.

“Thanks, of course,” I lied.

Having zero self-confidence, constantly needing external validation often leads me to playing a role for people. I know few who dislike me, I constantly play roles for those around me. I’ll make jokes about fashion, musicals and Cher for those who appreciate a gay schtick and I couldn’t care less about any of the three. Religious? I’ll say “bless” and pretend that I pray. Whatever gets me positive reinforcement. Please, validate me.

It is pathetic. I know that. It is exhausting. And yet the fear of rejection conquers all.

I don’t love myself, but maybe you will. Please, at least pretend.


Choosing Happiness – You’re Welcome

Wanna see a shit show?

Today has been difficult. Testing out less Adderall, just 60mg. Disaster. Shit show.

I use a Google Form to track meds. Drop down list to pick the pill, place for dosage size, time stamped and sometimes I log my mood, energy, how much I am in my head and focus. Instead of throwing another pity/bitching/pathetic party here — gonna use the back catalog.

Below is my log of the two days before being diagnosed Bipolar. Yeah. Shit show.  

Total of that disaster? Well, 160mg. Oh, and at 10:30pm, when I get giddy, hypomanic. I didn’t know it then but yeah. Drug addict. Fuck. Die.

10 pictureTotal is 127.5. Still, shit show.

Good thing the next day I was diagnosed Bipolar, put on Lamictal and since it has been six-weeks, everything is solved. Now I am going to go drink or imagine the blood stain on my ceiling if I was capable of blowing my brains out.

Fuck me. I probably just do this shit for attention. Fuck. I am not going to fucking kill myself. I just wish so much I had the balls. Fuck.

Happy Tuesday!

Wanna see a shit show?

The Lamictal Mery-Go-Round

Twice in a row, I am dumb. Yesterday I tried taking Lamictal in two 50mg doses. Except, I wait 10 hrs between, Lamictal takes three-ish hours to kick in for me, so from 6:30 to 8:00pm I dipped into hell. 

Today started with me taking 50mg of Lamictal (and everything else) at 10am. At noonish the effects are noticeable. At 2pm, another 25mg. I needed to pick up my refill but couldn’t until 4pm.

At 6pm I arrive in hell. The 25mg in my system didn’t cut it. I hoped it would be enough. Nope. My later dose has now kicked it. However, during that hour I took more adderall then I should have. Desperate to make it stop. I can’t not. Even my doctor, although disagreed with my behavior, said she understood it. 

Now my mood is stable but my hands aren’t. Jittery as fuck. Damn you adderall. Damn you body.

Wait. Hell? What do you mean by hell?

Hell? Yes. I intensely focus on all the perceived errors I have made, personal short-comings and future expected failing. The solution to me being entirely void of worth is simple. I’ll splatter my brains on the ceiling.

Oh god, don’t kill yourself.

I won’t. I don’t think. Never have I been actually suicidal. It is something I think when stressed, starting in third grade. It makes me feel powerful. I can always opt out. Yet, never have even been capable of such an act. And I doubt I ever would be.

That isn’t true. My bipolar diagnose three weeks ago came a few days after I an unplanned doctor visit. Spent the morning hiding in my room, terrified of everything. Phone calls made me jump. Walking through the halls, awful. What if people spoke to me?

After explaining to my doctor that I had never experienced that level of anxiety. And if it continued, I wouldn’t make it through the year. I still feel that way.

Lamictal is wonderful. I’ve never experience an the life it provides. Not since third grade.

And that is now the problem. Knowing what “normal” is – Well, knowing what Lamictal normal is – God. I can’t go back. 

Life a month ago was rough, I had no idea how rough. Having gaps in Lamictal coverage puts me right back into a non-functional self-loathing state. Knowing what “normal” is makes my lows so much worse. 

The Lamictal Mery-Go-Round