yourkinkisnasty:

alcohol culture is so wild…people all over fb will be sharing a meme like “i can’t have just one glass of wine, it’s always 2 bottles and 3 people i can never look in the eye again” as if that’s normal? but if a meme like that was going around about cocaine or any other drug, everyone would be like “sounds like a drug problem bruh”

alcoholism is SO normalized and it’s such a toxic environment honestly

This article is a fascinating and horrifying observation of alcohol culture in present-day America – especially in the context of women and the “wine mom” attitude seen on Facebook in particular. It’s one of the most eye-opening things I’ve ever read, tbh.

Venting 4

Last venting was not from today. In fact I wrote it weeks ago. I am now posting again, because, I need to. Vent.

Here is today venting.

“On days like those… I wish I could take enough sleeping-pills to never wake up again. Just resting peacefully…no more judgements, no more obligations, no more human needs.
“

Well, I did. I tried. Yesterday night, I tried to kill myself.

I persuaded my dad to give me his Lexomil (Bromazépam) – he was not hard to persuade, eh, he’s all too happy to give his drugs to someone else. He told me “it’s powerful, take only a quarter!”. Ah. I took a whole pill and still felt fine.

When I tried coming home on Friday, no one was there to greet me. I was alone at the station. I had to take another train to come close to the town where my parents habit.

When I told my mother I needed new medications because I was a mess, she ended up angry and told me she was fed up with me.

I did not have to courage to ask my girlfriend on a date. What is wrong with me.

Yesterday night, I took way too many pills. Sleeping pills (half a tube), Lexomile (four pills), and painkillers. I then went out to search for an open shop, see if they were selling alcohol. I was not really conscious of what I was doing, I’m aware of it now. I was swaggering on the streets, defenceless. Just wanting to have some beer to accelerate the stuff.

I didn’t find any. I went back home, feeling like shit. I found weird things there on the bed, latex gloves, and remnants of pills wrappers. I don’t really know what happened next.

I woke up hours after, naked in the bed, with a different pair of underwear. My computer was shut off. Books were piled up on the floor. I don’t remember doing any of it, but it must have been me.

I couldn’t eat all day. Pills have left an horrible after taste, I tried drinking but it gave me nausea so strong I nearly puked. Tonight I cooked a kilo of pasta, and in a rush of eating disorder I gulped it all, and then stayed in pain in the toilets for an hour. I have troubles breathing, and walking straight. I still went to my afternoon classes.

I don’t know how to deal with this. I tried to kill myself, I was so close! I am ashamed of myself, and I can’t tell anyone. But the worst is…that I am actually disappointed. I felt bad yesterday, yes, but not that much. If I had died, it would have been peaceful.

That’s all I want. And I failed. Like I fail at everything else.

And now what to do? Trying again? Calling a doctor? I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I can’t stop running, but I am already on my knees.

Venting3

I can’t talk to anybody. I want out. I want out so desperately. I’m no good for them, I’ll never be. I want to drink myself to death, use as many sleeping pills I have to just never, ever wake up. I am not brave, not even brave enough to invite my girlfriend out. Why? Why am I like this? And at the same time, why doesn’t she invite me? Does she think I’m a bore? Is she scared she’s not gonna like me anymore? Is she even liking me in the first place…

I can’t do it anymore, I just can’t. I stopped taking meds, all at once, because, let’s face it, they were not working, and they were just placebo anyway. And still I’m blaming my lameness on that? Dude, wake up, you are lame, whether you’re on meds or not. So let’s just stop filling my body with these nasty stuff. I want to die. I want to die so badly. I’m always having dizzy spells, I’m drunk almost everyday, and if not drunk, using sleeping pills…

I will never be free from this… I will never be free – I may go on a vacation, go on a trip, live on my own, or live with people, it’s always stuck to me, it’s always talking to me… I am no good. I will never escape, if I don’t stop taking meds now, I’ll never stop anyway, because I won’t heal. I won’t ever go to someone to talk it out, and even if I were to do it, it wouldn’t help. Because no one cares. No one ever cared.

Everyone about suicide: “If they are in a crisis, call the line blablabla”… Why? Just so we are left hurting? Why is it better to see our hurting bodies and minds than see our corpses? Because when we are corpses, we can’t produce anything anymore? We are not USEFUL, anymore, mmh, society? You want living corpses, corpses that can amount to something, not real corpses, right? FUCK YOU. Fuck you for letting us hurt so much, so long, and presenting that as “the good thing to do.” FUCK YOU.