WTF. I just wanted to start with that and I’ve probably done it before, mostly not. I can’t possibly imagine myself doing anything in life at this point. I feel superbly useless, like a failure, waste of space, time and continuum. It’s all because I’m doing really badly in class at the University. I don’t think I’m good enough anymore. That I’m not worth it and that life is wasted on me. I realise that a lot of it has to do with the nature of my varies identities and my own learning about marginalisation and intersection of marginal identities and oppression. And my depression has taken full advantage of the situation.
Random water works, paranoia, lethargy, palpitation, sweating and irregular urges to kill myself have helped confirm a diagnosis with my bachelors in Psychology. Then I got it verified by a Psychiatrist who put me on medication and the first day was great. I was on an adrenaline rush and I knew it. The first week I started medication was the worst so far and I was ready to kill. I didn’t take more than more than the daily dosage even though I was asked to take more on days that were bad. But I never did it, my anxiety medication had a daily limit of 3 and I’ve never crossed two. It had its disadvantages but helped me believe I wasn’t dependent but just medicating because I was ill. It helped but the Psychiatrist was terrible. She asked because I’m bi, if I’d want to settle down with a man or women without even establishing a relationship or having a conversation with me. She was awful but the medication was great for my anxiety except for the insomnia which fucked everything up.
Now that I’d just started to do better (barely) so life took a fucking fall, I was starting to fail again. I was ready to dropout and leave. Go back home and live the mediocre life but I was stuck and did do something. Nothing of consequence or significance. I’m just floating by and it is time I got new tranquillisers that don’t cause insomnia.
Concrete Sunshine 