This post has a Trigger Warning, mentions of Self-harm and Suicide.
I don’t know why I thought this time would be different, I guess deep down I am an optimist, no matter how negative I seem vocally. I don’t want to keep blaming Citalopram for this, but this only seems to happen when I increase or decrease this stupid medication. And I guess I don’t really know what to do.
Today has been the worst day for a long time. I keep crying and its so annoying and stupid and it happens when I am at work and that is the worst.
I didn’t leave my house until 12. I started work at 12:30 so already that was cutting it a bit fine, had the bus came at 12:02 like it was supposed to I would have made it to work with a few minutes to spare. Of course, dear reader, this is the life of the Elephant in the room, and no one thing is simple. My bus arrived at 12:07. I knew I would be late so I called work, which made me sadder. and it took a lot of self-control to not burst into tears on the phone.
I was crying on the bus, I kept my head down. I was pretending to cough so people thought my sniffling was to do with a cold. When I got to work 10 minutes late, it was clear I had been crying and when I was asked “Should you be here” I replied “I have nowhere else to go.” I briskly walked off so as not to start crying again. As soon as I hit the staff room I was off, I stood there willing myself to stop crying “stop it, you idiot. Now is not the time!” I was asked if I needed a minute because I still looked like I had been crying. Well, that was it. I cried hysterically. I kept saying “I’m just being stupid.” And that wasn’t the end of my crying. I cried again and again throughout the day and then when it came time for me to leave. I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to leave and it was awkward and I just kind of stood and mumbled and cried and looked like a fool.
I struggled all the way home and even after that. I just couldn’t get out of my head. I kept telling people not to be nice to me. I kept saying it “makes me worse” and it does, when I am upset and people are nice it makes me cry more. But, I guess I also don’t think I deserve it. And that is a horrible thing to realise let alone admit. When I got home I tried to distract my brain. I made a mountain of pancakes.
these stupid pills zap my brain and my creativity and its horrible. I can’t write, I can’t form sentences. I hate everything I write when I take these pills. I don’t feel my work is good enough, I don’t feel anything is good enough. I feel like a letdown. I let everyone down, my parents, my friends, my blogging community, my work colleagues basically everyone because I am a terrible person and it’s silly of me to really think differently. I am selfish, inherently selfish.
It’s human nature to perform selfish acts. To grieve for the loss of something not because it’s gone, but because “you” won’t be able to have it anymore is selfish.
I don’t grieve for my happiness because I don’t want it. I don’t know if I want to get better. At least this way I know who I am. Well, I thought I knew who I was.
Maybe I want to be everyone’s damaged tragic hero I instill in others a sense of pity and fear. Pity: the feeling of pain one suffers when watching someone else suffer and fear: a sense of panic that one day “you” to could be just like me.
I asked someone to tell me if I was a good person. They kind of laughed it off and told me to stop being silly. I guess you shouldn’t look to others for validation. Not so much validation of who I am. But more validation that I deserve to be here. That I should be alive
But this is what Citalopram does to me. It makes me think this way, it scares me to think that earlier today as I waited for a lorry to back out from behind a store I considered jumping behind it. just before it was able to see me. Before the mirrors could see the back wheels. Imagine that. Killing myself that way. That poor lorry driver, he would never get over that, would people think it was his fault? I would have left no note. Who would have known it was a suicide? Good for me, not so good for him.
At my grandma’s funeral, my cousin and I were talking about one of our other cousins. My cousin mentioned that cousins suicide attempt. He said. “it’s the cowards way out, don’t you think?” I didn’t agree. I couldn’t. How could I tell someone who had just told me that I was the only cousin of his 14 that he would trust to look after his one-year-old son. That I consider suicide often, that I battle with myself frequently when it comes to hurting myself on purpose? I couldn’t tell him that, I changed the subject. I couldn’t argue with him. It’s so hard to change someone when they have that mindset.
Citalopram zaps everything out of me, I mean jeez, it’s taken me almost a week to write this post and it doesn’t say anything. I can’t take these stupid pills anymore. I hate them
Now I’m having this dumb panic attack for no reason. I also seem to have caused some kind of national crisis, well. local crisis. No, not even local. just a crisis amongst my friends because people seem to think I have gone missing and that I am suicidal. I am still breathing. At least I’m at home, at least I’m alive. Let’s just leave it at that right? I don’t need to be ok, just safe.
I haven’t cut myself recently, well, not for a few days. I was proud that I didn’t do it today. And even the last time, it was more of a graze. But the time before that I cut myself, was probably the worst for a long time. It’s not big, but its deep and the pain is ridiculous. I’m having trouble lifting my arm because I cut it and I guess it’s infected. I should rub some Germolene into it or something.
The Elephant in the Room