I don’t want to be here anymore.
They are getting louder and clearer…
You don’t deserve to live
Swallow those 2478 pills in your bedroom
No one will miss you
Stop fucking around with the arms you pussy, cut your throat and get it over with
The thoughts and the background noise are getting louder and clearer. Sometimes listening to music will distract them for a while, but they come back. I know they aren’t really there, that the voices are not real but they are hard to ignore. My rational mind tells me that it is just my mental illness manifesting in a different way.
My irrational, impulsive mind tells me to follow them.
I need it to stop.
I feel so utterly helpless and lost. Three weeks ago I moved away from sleeping in the streets in Northern California to live with an old friend in a relatively rural community in Upstate New York. The two worlds could not possibly be any different. I grew up about 80 miles north of here, so I should have known what to expect, but I was not prepared at all. I have changed so much in the 16 years since I left here that I now feel like I live on a different planet.
I am having a difficult time locating vital services and support that I desperately need. The very limited Narcotics Anonymous meetings I have found have been more stressful than helpful. They are disorganized, almost chaotic at times. The people talk while others are speaking, they are using their cell phones in areas that cell phone usage is prohibited by law. Overall very disrespectful to the recovery process.
While I was able to get all of my medications refilled before I left California, they aren’t going to last forever. As a transgendered woman I need access to a therapist that is competent in gender issues as well as medical doctors who are competent in Hormone Replacement Therapy. This is in addition to finding the therapeutic and medical support I need in treating my Borderline Personality Disorder, Major Depressive Disorder, and what may be the beginning stages of schizophrenia. The one LGBT focused website I was able to find for the area only had 9 members. I can’t be the only one who needs these services. I know this area is far more conservative that California is but I at least expected to find something here.
I feel so alone.
It started as a low murmur, background noise that was my constant companion. It’s been there for years, something I had always attributed to residual damage from the concerts of my youth. I had assumed that over thirty concerts, playing guitar in a few bands, and listening to loud music through headphones had lead to irreversible hearing damage. The murmur is starting to change, become less murky and beginning to sound more like voices. I can’t understand what they are saying, they are still in the background as if I am in a coffee shop or something. I know people are talking, but I don’t understand what they are saying. I find this deeply troubling, the sounds make me feel anxious and on edge.
As I suffer through one of the deepest depressive episodes of my life am deeply disturbed by the fact that I am currently 2700 miles from my psychiatrist and the rapist . When I left California I maintained my mailbox at the UPS Store so I would remain a California resident, thereby retaining my health insurance. My HMO has a wonderful service where you can order medication refills online and have them shipped to you. Last week I ordered refills of everything I was unable to obtain before I left. I checked the website and everything shipped yesterday except Seroquel which is suddenly listed as “Not Available for Refill”. I am very troubled by this.
I have found the Serouquel to be very helpful in keeping me at least somewhat stable. I am very worried about not being able to obtain it anymore. I have no money, i had to borrow money so I could buy a cup of coffee and sit in Starbucks so I could access the internet. If my HMO continues to deny me this vital medication I am afraid of what the consequences will be. As I have stabilized and moved away from active addiction people have been filling my in about my behavior over the last two years. They paint a portrait of someone I don’t know. They show a paranoid, violent, anti-social person. That is not me. I have never been that way, and I am frightened that I will return there.
Three years ago I was class valedictorian and hired into a full time position the day I graduated from college. Today I am a mentally ill, drug addicted, unemployable shell of a human being. I cry every day. I self harm every day. I find myself starting to wonder if the five year prohibition of owning a firearm applies only to California or if it is nationwide. If I could only con someone into hiring me just long enough that I could buy a gun everything would be better. I could end my pain and the people around me would not have to deal with me anymore. I am sick and tired of being a burden to everyone.