Category: suicide

To The Concerned Anonymous Asshole

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, mood disorders, suicide, suicide attempt

To The Concerned Anonymous Asshole,

I am assuming you are still reading my blog to fulfill your hero needs. Let me tell you something, YOU have destroyed my world, more so than it already was. A piece of myself has been betrayed the moment you felt dignified to call the cops to my door. I now feel that I have no place to share my suicidal feelings. I was talking to my therapist about this. She said that can be very dangerous. I hope you realize this. I don’t mean to tell the world that I am suicidal all the time because like depression, it ebbs and flows. This blog is about all that if you happen to read it. Hell, the top right corner says that this is “one person’s struggle with suicidal thoughts and chronic pain” you dumbass.

If you happen to notice the pages of my blog, I HIGHLY recommend you read “What my blog is about”. But obviously, my blog isn’t about me. It has become about you as you feel you are holier than thou. Do you know how hard it is to struggle every day with suicidal thoughts? Maybe you had a loved one die by suicide and you are damned to let that happen again. The fact that I am still here, angry, should tell you something, you jerk. I write to blow off steam, and I know if has the flavor of becoming concerning to people, but you as a reader, had the opportunity to comment before calling the cops. Now my suicidal thoughts are going to go underground and become more self-destructive. I hope that you are happy with yourself. You might have saved me this week or this month, but the suffering will continue. You cannot stop me indefinitely. NO ONE CAN. And if you think that you can, you are deluding yourself.

What gives you the right to think you can stop another’s pain? Who gave you that right? I certainly didn’t give it to you. In fact, right after I posted the blog that sent you on your holy high mission to save me, I had shared my blog with a suicide prevention therapist. He didn’t feel that my life was threatened in that very moment. What gave you that special power over him to wreck my life and my family? But go on reading. You need help more than I ever will. And if I ever find out who the hell you are, I will not be so cordial in my response.

writing just because

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, suicide

Writing just because

Because of the hurtfulness of the blog reader that sent cops to my house this morning, I never got a chance to talk about how my day went after the cops left.

I was nervous because I was going to be talking with my therapist and I had sent her one of the blogs that I privatized and wasn’t sure if she had a chance to read it before it went private. It was my declaration of what would happen should I die, an explanation if you will, that I wrote after I found a quote in the Idiot by Dostoevsky. I thought it was a rather nice essay and my therapist did read it as well as enjoyed it. She understood it. I had finished it sometime during the morning hours as I was up. I might change it to a password protected blog so that others might read it too. It isn’t dangerous, I don’t think. But my level of dangerous writing is obviously different than someone else’s.

For most of my session we talked about a lot of things. She really loved my sauce and squirreled it away from her family so they couldn’t have it. I laughed at that. I also called her a jerk several times for not leaving me and she laughed. I asked her why she laughed and she said it was because I didn’t say it with menace. I didn’t. I don’t think there is a menace bone in my body. The only person I am a danger to is myself and now this blog reader who thinks they have to save me.

I was talking with a Twitter therapist friend of mine who I gave one of the blogs I wrote last night. I asked him if he called the fuzz on me and he said that he didn’t and he would have talked to me about it should he felt my life was in IMMENINT danger. I stress that word because even though I wrote about taking my life in a few days (I can’t now because my family is watching me like a hawk), there was not a pressing need for that moment in time to call the fucking cops. Had I said that right this second I am going to take my life and there is nothing you can do, that would have been a different can of worms. You are an idiot blog reader who doesn’t understand how suicidality works. You may have bought me some time to think more about my plan, so I thank you for that. But that is all you did. And my therapist knows this. I make plans all the time. I usually have a high percentage rate of changing my mind and living, sad as that maybe. My therapist gives me the hope.

As I was talking with my therapist today, I was waiting on Walgreens to send me notification that my psychiatrist had called in my prescription. It’s still not in the pharmacy. I called three today and got no where. So she said she would call again. Anyways, notifications came through to my phone while we were talking. Since I posted an Instagram photo of my sauce with pasta, there is an Italian North End restaurant that has been tweeting me the last few days. They tweeted me again today asking if I tried out their restaurant. I haven’t replied because I was so upset about the cops showing up on my door. I still haven’t quite put out that fire. My mother found out about it and we had a “talk” today about it. I had to walk away, like I usually do. Maybe I can get a free meal out of the deal. I have no idea where they are located. I haven’t been to the North End of Boston since I was a youngster and things have changed considerably with the Big Dig. I am not sure I can find my way around. Anyway, my therapist is going head over heels over this. She thinks it is awesome that this restaurant has contacted me with my cooking skills. I am being humble as I don’t think my cooking skills are anything great. I just cooked some beef, threw it in with some crushed tomatoes and called it a meal.

My therapist thinks that my voices are not controlled well enough and are what is causing my suicidality to go 10 fold. Well, I don’t necessarily have the meds to control it fully so I am rationing my meds until I do. My psych is trying to get my meds to me but there must be a glitch somewhere with the new stupid system. I am going to have to call her tomorrow to find out what the hell is going on.

I have been crying and sneezing the last few hours because of everything that happened today. I have a headache and I am really tired. Luckily, my therapist has an opening tomorrow morning so I will talk to her. I sent her the short blog that I wrote about whether or not I should continue blogging. I am going to miss it if I do decide to stop.

Discouraged

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, suicide

Discouraged

I woke up this morning to police at my door. Apparently someone called the cops on me after they read one of my blogs last night. I don’t know which one and the police wasn’t kind enough to tell me who the caller was. I am wicked pissed off.

This blog used to be a place where I shared my inner most thoughts and feelings and now it has been turned against me. I have no other place to tell my demons to. And thanks to some caring jerk off, I can never talk about my suicidal feelings again. I don’t know what this blog will be about. I wish the coward would step forward and at least tell me their fucking name.

I accused someone falsely from my Facebook page. She was the reason I left my other blog. I don’t know how she found me again. If you are reading this, I apologize. I have deleted my Facebook page because I know they have a “suicide alert” system in place. I have no idea if WordPress has it. I still have no idea how the police found me or under what name. Doesn’t matter now. My family knows that I have been thinking about ending my life now. They will be watching me like a hawk.

I have been crying all day from the betrayal of my own words used against me. It makes me wonder if I should continue to write. This was my past time and now it’s compromised. I am no longer free to say what I want to say. I am restricted in my words, and I don’t mean by word counts. If I do talk freely, I will have to password protect what I write. I hate doing that because it restricts people from reading.

Protected: Can’t die without explanations 2

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, suicide

This content is password-protected. To view it, please enter the password below.