Trigger warnings for suicide.
I’ve been meaning to write a post for a while, but haven’t really got round to it. In all honesty I’m only doing it now because I’m supposed to be having goals and doing activities. It’s hard enough just staying out of bed. Bed is safe, there are no knives in bed to slit my wrists with, there are no car keys to get in the car and drive up to Beachy Head with – I could of course walk but last time it took me two and a half hours and I was immediately intercepted by the chaplaincy team on arrival, who called the police and I was promptly taken off to hospital. I was told I would have to stay in or be sectioned.
I suppose I should tell this story. I can’t remember how much I put on Twitter. It started with my mood elevating, hypomanic and signed off work because I couldn’t actually do anything. MI5 were (and still are, this is a problem) watching me through computers and monitoring my activity. I believe I can save the world (even if everyone else doubts it) but I’ve run out of time and so I need to be reborn. This is why I went to Beachy Head. There is a portal just off the cliff edge which I need to jump through in order to reset everything , I will wake up in my bed – there will be no voices, no MI5, no pressure on me to save the world, no mood episodes. I’m slightly less convinced of this now, there is a possibility I will die but to be quite honest I’m okay with that. I need to be reborn or I need to die. It’s as simple as that.
I spent about three weeks in hospital and was discharged to the crisis team who I am still under after nearly another three weeks. This seems like a ridiculously long time to me, but what do I know. They’ve asked a couple of times if I need to be in hospital but I’ve said no. I don’t want them interfering with my plans.
Well, they already have – they told Husband about my plan to slit my wrists while he was out, the result of which is that I have not been left in the house or let out of the house by myself since. It’s frustrating. I am a huge burden and I need to be gone. I don’t want to live.