
ForeverCaHa
Heartbroken Welshman
- Feb 16, 2025
- 442
It's been a while since I've posted on here.
I was discharged from the psych ward about two months ago, and since then the support I was promised has been some random woman coming to see me for 20 minutes or so every other week. The crisis team decided I was fine after two visits. I'm still on medication, but this week I haven't been given my anti-depressants because the GP is waiting for the results of a blood test. I don't know how long it will be before I get a fresh prescription. Going cold turkey on them after almost 7 months definitely isn't going to be good. I'm scared about what kind of effects it may have. I at least have my evening medication, so I should be able to force myself to sleep.
In a tiny bit of brighter news I got a dog after my release. A tiny little puppy (picture included for tax reasons). He's making his way through his nightly peanut butter rations by my side as I write this. He's an arsehole, but I love him to bits. At the same time, though, part of me resents him. If I had never got him I would be free to go through with my plans. I've basically just tricked myself into staying alive a bit longer. I don't know how long he will be able to keep me above water though. The urges haven't subsided in any meaningful way. A few days ago I ordered a rope from Amazon, but cancelled the order when the pup started whining in his sleep.
I'm trying to make plans for the future. I've booked some trips, returned to my PhD... But the prospect of travel no longer excites me, and I feel like I've been out of my PhD for so long now that I can't even remember why I applied to it in the first place. Everything has lost its meaning.
Tomorrow should be my partner's birthday. I'm dreading waking up. He felt sad on his birthday last year. I just wish I had done more for him then. Everything's messed up, it still doesn't feel real.
I was discharged from the psych ward about two months ago, and since then the support I was promised has been some random woman coming to see me for 20 minutes or so every other week. The crisis team decided I was fine after two visits. I'm still on medication, but this week I haven't been given my anti-depressants because the GP is waiting for the results of a blood test. I don't know how long it will be before I get a fresh prescription. Going cold turkey on them after almost 7 months definitely isn't going to be good. I'm scared about what kind of effects it may have. I at least have my evening medication, so I should be able to force myself to sleep.
In a tiny bit of brighter news I got a dog after my release. A tiny little puppy (picture included for tax reasons). He's making his way through his nightly peanut butter rations by my side as I write this. He's an arsehole, but I love him to bits. At the same time, though, part of me resents him. If I had never got him I would be free to go through with my plans. I've basically just tricked myself into staying alive a bit longer. I don't know how long he will be able to keep me above water though. The urges haven't subsided in any meaningful way. A few days ago I ordered a rope from Amazon, but cancelled the order when the pup started whining in his sleep.
I'm trying to make plans for the future. I've booked some trips, returned to my PhD... But the prospect of travel no longer excites me, and I feel like I've been out of my PhD for so long now that I can't even remember why I applied to it in the first place. Everything has lost its meaning.
Tomorrow should be my partner's birthday. I'm dreading waking up. He felt sad on his birthday last year. I just wish I had done more for him then. Everything's messed up, it still doesn't feel real.