Would anyone be able to tell me what actually happens to a person once they tell a doctor they are considering suicide? I have never actually admitted to any of the psychs I have seen in the past that I think about killing myself because I felt kind of... embarrassed? The bad thing about this is it makes my situation seem less urgent and I really need to express that urgency soon or I'm going to do something I might not even be able to eventually regret because I won't be alive.
For the past week I have had a study week for university. I have a test on the first day back and a report due by the end of the week which I have not even started. Instead, I have been spending most of my time in bed randomly crying and thinking about how nothing will even change or get better. I keep thinking about how all the same problems keep repeating themselves and everything feels so hard. I keep thinking about how I observe so many people NOT having the same difficulties with simple things and wonder why I'm struggling so much. I keep thinking about how hard it is to have no friends to talk to about this, how much I hate always having to search for communities like this one so I can actually find people who might understand how I feel. How much I worry no one will ever reply to what I write.
You get the idea.
I'm just really worried I'll have to put everything on hold to be stuck in a hospital somewhere for many weeks without being allowed to leave until I don't feel depressed anymore. What happens once I tell someone?
I'm going to cross-post this a little bit, sorry if you see it more than once or twice.
So it's been a month since my last post, and nobody's posted anything since. What is up? (Or down...)
I'm feeling fine, no suicidal impulses or anything. I even got ditched by a date, and I'm OK with it. But I've been having trouble waking up for weeks, now. It's not that I'm all that tired, I just don't feel motivated to do anything, even as far as "OK, I'll drink some tea or soda or something and perk up, and then I'll feel more lively". Any advice on how to get some get-up-and-go?
(Yes, I'm still taking my meds. I assume they're the reason why I'm not having any suicidal impulses, since nothing else has changed.)
I was forced to break up with the only girl i truly love yesterday... She completed my world... but now.. i dont want to even get outa bed... ive lost interest in everything... She is grounded from dating til the end of summer, so we talked for a loooong time about how we love eachother to much to let go... we want to get back together over the summer, but i cant even talk to her for a month, since her mom took her phone... I cant take not talking to her... im in such a scary scary place ;(((( I feel sooooooo empty and scared... add me if u want all the details and the story...
Nothing in the whole world matters to me anymore.
Not my faith, not writing, not my friends, not music, not walking, not...anything. Everything I once loved is completely and totally pointless.
I don't even know what I want. I have no clue what would make things better.
I just want to sleep. And I even hate that now.
I feel like I'm on the edge of snapping. I've had 'thoughts' lately. Like I picture myself cutting myself and watching me bleed to death.
I'm so sad.
I feel like if I left all the things that make me depressed, I'll be 78% better. But I can't, I'm too young.
I feel like I wasn't meant for this life, like everyone hates me in some way or other. I want to crawl up in a ball and just wait for everything to go away.
But I also feel like I'm being a big baby about life. There's nothing really wrong in my life. I have a good home, I have pets, and a brother and parents, I feel I should be overall happy. But I'm not.
My stepmother and I aren't getting on to well, but that's just because we're opposites. I worry too much I guess.
He's a lonely voice lost in the huge world, given to those who take, living in strife, dying in fame, never being themself for themself, never enjoining, always using. But those who enjoy hardly ever use. They are murdered millions of them with drugs, fights, sex and such. They are not remembered. They dy crashed.
Bad day. I've noticed a lot more of those lately. And I've felt like I was getting better, too. Guess not. I've been trying to change my academic advisor, but no matter how gracefully I try to go about all this...I just keep screwing up. I feel like I can't get anything right. Only two more years here...and they will ALL be social work classes. Just my core classes to go. And the social work professors (AND advisors), well, no matter how careful I try to be when talking to them, I'm always making the wrong decision, and always making a bad impression. Fantastic. If I'm ever going to go to grad. school at UIC, I'm gonna need a recommendation from my advisor. Now 2 out 3 don't think too highly of me. I'm starting to feel like I can kiss UIC goodbye...and there goes my dreamlike future, living with Jon in Chicago. I'm fucked.