… Pathetic “cry for help”

… Pathetic “cry for help”

 Months ago, I started to cache knockout doses (Relpax 40&80mg x2, codeine 15mg/paracetamol 500mg x4, Phenergan 25mg x4, Dozile x4, 200mg ibuprofen x4, Tramol x4, Lyrica 300mg x2, Endep 25&50mg x3, melatonin x3) of meds around my room & my outside smoking area, in preparation (how mortified I would be, to get to the appointed date but be too broke to fill scripts!).

Two days ago I combined all of them & stared at the pile for a long time before I put it away. Since then I’ve been existing in my usual pointlessness, interspersed with staring at the bottle in front of me. 
Last night I poured them all out & thought about taking them. I eventually put them away, but right now I’ve been awake for 10 minutes & I have the bottle in hand & I’m simultaneously wanting to take them & wanting to be talked out of taking them.

It’s way ahead of time, but it’s starting to feel like I’m going to bail early. 

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…Free Lunch

…Free Lunch

Dear People To Whom I Am Related

Yes, I am to be knowing the words and where-if to be using same. No, I do NOT want to edit your book/thesis/Craigslist ad for free, or research business contacts for a vague/unspecified possible future hypothetical maybe reward. 

No, you may not break an 18-month silence by attempting smarmy buttering up, giving up, admitting you’d like my help & then call it a favour.

 

So tired

I’m tired of being tired.
I’m sick of being sick.
All but my inner circle
Seem to think I’m thick.

I’m tired of futile input.
I’m sick of doctors, all.
Even the inner circle
Seem to think I’m weak.

I’m tired of watching life
go by, of sickness being all.
Who are we, really, when
Hope has left the ball?

I’m tired of being tired;
Sick of being sick.
I thought I used to be someone,
But even I now know I’m not.

Tired.
Sick.
Existential agonies.
Futility.
Resignation.

I’m done.