(Trigger warning for suicidal ideation, self-harm and thoughts of hurting others) (trigger warning for unfiltered period talk, I guess?) I just wanted to get some crap out there. Not even sure if this is the right place for it. I got offered a new job that actually pays decent, good hours, etc. Great, right? Except that my uterus has decided fuck you. Period was three weeks late for no discernible reason, and chose my first week of on the floor training to finally show up. Twice. Back to fucking back. Like, bleeding for four days (as normal), bleeding tapers off, on fifth day bleeding starts again stronger than before. I have PMDD, on top of regular ol depression and anxiety. Whatever my uterus is doing, it's playing merry hell with my emotional state. I have had three full-on breakdowns this past week, in flavors ranging from "hate myself for being this way and also hate myself for hating myself with a side of uncontrollable urges to hurt self" to "everything is horrible and always will be horrible so there's utterly no point in living you should probably just gun it for the nearest telephone pole" to last night's "I want to die but I don't want my loved ones to be hurt by it- so let's plan ways of killing them so they don't grieve for me." Those thoughts sent me into some form of panic attack, I think? I think I felt my sanity slip- I knew I was dangerous, I knew I didn't really want to die, or hurt anyone, but I was so scared I might. So when my thoughts latched onto the knives in the kitchen and what I could do with them (no one would expect me and a stab to the throat would be pretty quick), I just. Had to get them away from me. Cue about an hour of me throwing "bad things" into the backyard- knives, all the scissors, a hammer, box cutters, a hacksaw, other things, all out into the rain, and then pacing the house while repeating "nothing bad is inside the house" in some kind of attempt to reassure myself. I knew when I was doing it that it wasn't normal or right, it didn't really make sense, but the part that knew that was just. In the back, muffled yelling, kind of thing. I'm scared I'm gonna lose my job. I'm scared my sister is gonna kill herself. I'm scared my highschool best friend is gonna kill herself. I'm scared of me, more than before, because last night I didn't feel like I was in control of me. I'm just so tired. And frustrated. And scared. My boyfriend is keeping an eye on me. I have a doctors appt to discuss this shit (again) but it isn't for two more weeks. Thanks for listening.
The other thing scaring me is that I can see how this crap kills now. I had this idea before that a person commits suicide after a long debate with themselves, after choosing decisively that this is what they want. Now I'm seeing how all it would take would be for the overwhelming despair and anguish to drown out that little bit of reason, of knowing you don't actually want to die, just once.
