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Mental Health The Rant Thread Vs. Really? How Does That Make You Feel?

That fucking moment you’re in a uni toilet stall planning to do some speed only to open your bag and realize you left your drugs at home ughhhh

Coffee please save me rn
 
I
demand to live here
Bitch
That's what Ryan thinks
Being thrown out is being thrown out is evil
They perverted it with past and disfiguration
Without a debit there's no reason
I don't care what someone so evil and gross
Goes through to become my wardrobe
It lives inside my dresser
Where alcohol is furniture and really
Can you not spend some more
On a dog toy but dog toys are in the right dimensions and
People who use slaughterhouses for self esteem
Are in charge of dog toys and
I know what shapes are
Attractive
I also know what evil is
So turn it up as loud as you can
 
I told them he was and he was
And they pretended bill would not
With a map of dollars and cents
Drawn out for cows and
All I wanted was the open door
The cigarette
The so called luxury
And the dullards gather round in charter funeral homes
Squawking hymns for Christians and retards
As the genius who needs so little
Is put in peasants clothes under the sun and told
It didn't go inside the castle
Try the mort
 
This fucking computer chair is killing me! Holy fuck it is murdering my back. I will burn this fucking thing when i get a new one
 
Civilian claims vs. reality: The military's use of DEWs is highly controlled and lacks the secret, invasive capabilities that TIs describe. The notion that such weapons are used to burn people's hair or other intrusive actions has no credible scientific basis.

Lol this is what google says. Yeah, I burned my own fucking hair until I was bald you fucking moron

I literally took my own wigs I needed (bc of dew,) and literally burned them even though I live in poverty and bought them with ocd
 
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My dad went to the hospital this morning with chest pains and now hes still in the ER waiting for the results of a chest xray. Thats about 8 or 9 hours hes been waiting on those results for now over 12 hours since he first set foot in the ER. This is fucking pathetic. Youd think a 78 year old man with a heart condition who has chest pain would get in quicker then this ffs! Then again this is Newfoundland after all. Expect nothing in this fucking province. The doctors here at the ER always act like they are doing you a huge favor to. You can absolutely forget getting any opiates or benzos as well.
 
I'm never donating blood again.What a fucking hassle, so many stupid questions. Like,whose blood is this,where did you get it and why is it in a bucket? Grrrrrrr....
 
Is here...Is in me.....Is absolute agony....worst than anything....no save....no escape..just can't...must stay there insafe..where I go,man...room smell on sulfur....toke half valium.better.can't explain...wanna sleep without night terror and mightmares.empty shell....only malice..I am venom
 
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Blackmail is a coercive act where one party forces another to give them money or take certain actions by threatening to reveal damaging secrets, accuse them of a crime, or otherwise injure their reputation or property if the demands are not met. This act is a form of extortion and is illegal in most jurisdictions, with potential consequences including fines and imprisonment.

Anyone ever been blackmailed? My mother blackmailed me into going to a rehab I didn't need for heroin. They had both told me to be a homeless woman, my parents. I had scoliosis and they had put me on the streets too. I lost my job from chronic pain and they did nothing. I was left alone cleaning part time and my chronic pain forced me to quit. Then I was on the streets of a dangerous city. I was forced to prostitute and all other things. I was tortured loitering and trespassing. All the people I had tried to live with were a coercive rapist. My ex boyfriend had me dumped at the same time I had to quit. He had also taken me from a roommate i felt safe with with bullshit apartments he cheated on me in and stole my car in. He also hit me before, leaving bruises on my arms. He claimed I "was too drunk". And he "had to hit me". There was no point to the apartments at all. I wound up trafficked to strangers instead a roommate i like without a car.

When I tried to ask my parents for help with basically DYING on the streets I was blackmailed into saying I was an addict. I TOLD them I was HOMELESS and not an addict. I said no. So my fucking mother says if I just lie to people and say I'm an addict in rehab she will pay my rent to take me off the street. She promised me a studio apartment. She lied and forced me to live in an extremely abusive "sober home" claiming it's a good way to get a job. I was assaulted by a woman in there, she punched me in the face. Another time, I was accused of being high when I was not and forced to drink water for hours after I couldn't pee IN FRONT of another woman. In there she claimed I should not have access to my own psych meds, claiming they are "dangerous like heroin" and my first failed job interview I gave up and drank the sober home which (big surprise) I wound up having to go live with a coercive rapist.

Never interact with people who would put you on the street. But then, it is a trafficking double edged sword. What to do when no one is safe and everything is wrong? Still. I don't advocate to interact with them
 
My pain will never make your life my Christmas you sick depraved sad fucking shit. I hope to God one day all of them can get free and tear you the fuck apart with their teeth and claws in your filthy fake fucking houses
 
It’s easy for me to write thoughts and feelings of as absurd dribble, and past not compartmentalising them, I struggle to see the utility when coming to the same conclusions time after time,

Emotions colour life, and bring brilliant energy, but having attachments is exhausting and ultimately seems to lead to more pain.

I sit here spinning in a perception of choices and choices, what do I do with my life?

Do I make do with what I’ve got, or to I fulfill the call that I should be doing more else it’s a waste.

I’m happy to do a job atleast doing something half decent for others, play my guitar, exercise and spend time with my partner and friends, only take what I need, look after myself and give what I can,

But that ever burning whisper, could you do more, should you, what if you lie there on that death bed and discover you chose comfort other your full possible utility to this entire system, the earth we all share?

My wants are transient and not to consider them as a totality, but I let myself “believe” I struggle to see past them .

For some reason the idea of struggling to go further, get more education and to get a better career to provide a better life for myself and my partner is just so exhausting.

I know you can only do your best, make a choice and work with it.

Over analysis leads fo rumination and then neurtoicsm.

Growth comes from facing fears.

My self imposed stagnancy is the ever long question I ask myself, is it worth it?

I may think I want more, but I don’t know if I actually do, and I certainly question if I need it.

It’s not up to me to decide the fate of the world, but then so does smoke whisper to me that I should do more, fight for beliefs.

All in all, it seems best to check opportunity and consider doing a remote course part time over the next few years to find a better industry and career, if I don’t find any apprenticeships again.

I thought I’d gotten an apprenticeship to become a qualified pharmacist but nope.. but such is such.

Back to the drawing board, I’m no stranger to adaptation, but I’ve allowed it to become a silly slump this time for no reason.

Working in care as I do, seems a single trench, it’s needed but it’s dig in and stay, I’ve been above before and making money of providing care is digesting, but look again to those pesky perceptions flaring.

indulgences question if I could do more.

Doing more isn’t peace, merely a matter to practice potential and morality.

Doing so won’t change transient feelings that always come and go.

So why am I here? Dribbling nonsense ! I’ve allowed myself enough to talk such shit, when honestly I’m the reason I’ve worked myself up. This belongs in my journal but I started it here so be it.

Why am I worried, every question has the same answer in my lens. To best act and to observe.

Everytime I consolidate and focus, what is left to understand there isn’t anything to.

Nothing less nothing more, so comes peace.
 
Each day I'm left wondering lately wether the realizations I keep making are true or not, I'm second guessing everything. Questions need an answer and I'm tired of pretending I have all of the answers when I'm trying to figure it out all alone, I never was able to before. Cold turkey benzo withdrawals are clouding my judgment, my mind is gone at times, especially in the morning. Each day extends into the next one, glad if I can catch a few hours of sleep. Still keep waking up with cold sweats and panic that makes my heart race for hours on end, only writing paragraphs upon paragraphs calms me down somewhat, I've written several essays reaching different conclusions that change with the day now.

When the benzo's stop working and even a large dose doesn't knock you out anymore you know you're fucked. Quit the benzo's after half a year of trying to sedate myself, after an accelerated Ashton manual taper last year I stepped off from an ultra high dose cold turkey this time around, I just didn't have the patience for it again. Two and a half weeks later and I didn't kill myself with seizures, but compared to a taper this is absolute hell. Time went by more slowly than it did previously, I've died a thousand deaths ever since this began.

I accomplished more in the last few weeks of mania than in all the months before on benzo's, but what am I even doing it for anymore, for myself or someone else? I'm driving myself crazy thinking about ifs and buts that should have been obvious.

Acceptance is delayed gratification I can't achieve at the moment.
 
Fucking purolator has still not delivered my package! It's been 11 fucking days already! Fuck sakes

Im so glad Canada post is going off strike cause fuck purolator
 
Basically the only thing I have in my life that makes me feel good right now is my Vyvanse and that is only for one week out of the month.

I feel like that is the only thing I have.
 
Man I let my therapist talk me into rescheduling my CPC when he cancelled our last appt. I saw him and landed 5 more referrals/appointments... What a f-in bitch.
Not the therapist.
Although she is moving and happy that she is happy. Or at the least still has that spirit and is loving the pursuit of happiness.
Still, hate to see yet go. That's 2 down. Nothing is permanent, right?
Fuck all that shit is how I feel boot it.
😆
👃
 
How did I end up in Alabama? With the most conservative doctors in the entire nation? I'm in constant pain and I'm living in a place that not only won't help me, they won't let manufacturers of drugs that could help me, send me help.

My back and all the nerve pain that goes with it, will hurt for the rest of my life and its degenerative and we know what that means. The home and acreage I live on is being given to me by my roommate, when he dies. It's a gorgeous piece of land in an unbelievably beautiful part of the country. I will never have to work or worry about anything. I should be able to enjoy that. Moving would be stupid. But knowing I will be in constant pain through it dampens things a bit. All I can do is pray things will change. I've never been so helpless. Prayer is powerful yes, but there is nothing I can do with my two hands, or my feet, and i just hate this. UGH. ALABAMA!!!!!
 
Man I just need to rant for a sec. You ever try a drug for the first time and immediately subconsciously feel you should have never tried it?

Last Tuesday night I was lowkey tweaking after binging speed, 2-mmc and coke all day. Had a shit evening, panic attack because of a humongous spider in my fucking bed, then the disappointment of trying coke for the first time and it being extremely underwhelming.

Kept talking out loud to myself constantly repeating how much I hate myself and everything in my life and considering just ending everything, when I remembered I’d gotten benzos from my dealer earlier that day.

Don’t even know why I got them tbh, never had an interest in benzos for recreational use, but I was so high and frustrated none of my dealers sell any kind of opiate that I suppose I decided fuck it, this is the closest I can get my hands on I suppose.

Luckily fent isn’t a worry where I live, but I was still expecting the pills to be fake or just inconsistent shit, but the ones I got are as far as I’ve researched, legit 10mg valium pills in the original blister package.

I was considering relapsing with self harm during the breakdown when I remembered the valium I’d gotten earlier, so I ended up crushing up and snorting a pill, not expecting shit after the coke had also been a disappointment.

And then the moment my thoughts went from ‘I hate myself, I need to tear open my fucking skin’ to ‘actually I don’t feel so bad anymore’ and then just feeling this wave of calmness hit me was like yeah. It fills the hole of opiates I don’t have access to currently, like no other drug has done so far.

I’ve also never slept after binging speed, but that night I slept so well, it was actually scary. I felt so physically calm too, at one point I almost felt as though my heart had stopped beating. It didn’t obviously and it was fine, I guess it just feels like that when you’re used to your heart constantly beating like crazy on uppers.

Since that Tuesday it’s been all I can think about, just that peace of mind. It’s such a weird feeling, idk if I’d call it euphoric in the warm, opiate way, but it certainly has that ‘fuck I feel good’ vibe to it for me. Also being able to do speed all day and still sleeping? Yeah the insomnia part was the only thing keeping my speed habit in check and now that’s out the window.

Stupid pills are decently expensive too and it’s that shit thing where I know damn well I should throw what I still have away and never touch it again but I just can’t give a shit anymore man. I also just miss the morphine so bad. I’m frustrated that opiates are harder to come by here as it’s mostly just party drug dealers. Like how can I get meth and crack but not a single goddamn opiate or even opioid. Ughhh
 
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