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February 17, 2000

Nobody cares until you're dead. That's the only time you'll be appreciated. So why live?

The past few weeks have been a drunken blur. I stopped taking my anti-depressant. My psychiatrist doesn't know this yet. My mood dropped so low. But I was sick of taking pills that did nothing for me. I always forgot to take them anyway. So, I've been numbing the pain by drinking. I know I'm headed toward destruction, but I don't care. As I write this I am wasted out of my mind. I just wanted to add an entry since I haven't in a while. I'm not dead, I'm still hanging in somehow. I've maxed all my credit cards. Drinking is an expensive habit. When I run out of money I figure I'll withdraw and die. I honestly don't see myself living for much longer. I wish I could. It sucks, but I don't know what else to do. My psychiatrist thinks the only way to help me is by shocking my brain with ECT. Don't think so. So, I try to get pills from him and he says no - that he thinks I'm an addict. So, now I'm trying other doctors. I could use some valium to calm my nerves. I'm shaky and jittery all the time. Yes, that is my hand above.

Why does it have to be this way?


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