#dont call amyone dor help im fine

[doki-mocha]

I think I've been having a few days long anxiety attack. But I do think my ridiculous rants do warrant some psych help no? Here's one from over a week ago before I donated money to unrwa:

I need to make some comics and merch designs. I can die right now it's so easy. It's difficult. I need to cry. There's no time. Eating is bad for me. Im so tired. I slept twelve hours. It's not enough. Put me to sleep. I have things I need to do. I wish I could've went to more stores. I thought I wanted to see Dad before he sleeps. I'm angry at him. Mom can't remember the things we bought for her. There's too much noise. I miss my friends. I want to see Len. I want to go shopping. All these stores support Israel. I want to buy knick knacks. There's no room in my room. I want to live alone. It's too expensive. My parents are retiring. I still have to live with them. I love my parents. I want to be alone. I want to draw forever. I can die tomorrow. There's stains on my bed. My walls have been the same colors for over a decade. I'm sleeping in the same bed since I was 7. I have clothes I wear from middle school. My clothes cost 50 dollars average now. Tacos cost 3 dollars. Eating is bad for me. Fruits go bad fast. I need to bake banana bread. The bananas will go to waste. Apples are sitting on the table rotting because we don't want to admit we have to throw it away. We're wasting money. Money is worthless. Why are people dying over it. I want to break things. I want a sledgehammer. I want to break things. I want to build things. I want to make things. Theres too much stuff in my room. I want to cry. My head hurts. I want a Cammypus plushie. Hundreds. I wish people bought the things I made. I can't make things no more. My brain is broken. I want to play video games. I need to draw. Therapy is a lie. You can't trust anybody. God isn't real. No one is there to help you. I wanted to be an artist. Kids brains are rotting. People have no empathy. We are all selfish. We can't help everybody. We are all going to die. I want to drink some fruit punch.

Here's one from the other night while waiting for my terrariums to dry:

Trying to make little crafts for fun but I'm still filled with anxiety. I'm like just trying to enjoy myself but I also want to vomit.weekends are never for relaxing it's just another day where it's all too much. All I'm doing is making a tiny fish bowl terrarium for a toy omanyte I made. Why do I have to imagine an illusionary life where nothing bad can happen. If I were to die I want it to be a surprise. I don't want to have the second of regret of not doing everything I wanted and couldn't do. I don't want my life to flash before my eyes while I'm bleeding out or buried under rubble. I want the lights to just go out. I don't want the lights to go out and I still see the silhouettes of objects in the room before me.

It's so weird that my brain will keep telling me to kill myself if I'm not consciously occupied with something. It's like you just painted something and you had no thoughts like that. But waiting for the painting to dry you just think "just die just die the pain in your stomach and head will go away if you're dead" but then you also think "I'm not done with the painting yet this is just the first layer then we do the next part" and you're stuck with the impatience and anxiety of kill yourself kill yourself. Maybe that's why I never waited for paint to draw. And I mess up the layer underneath because I was impatient then you think you're a failure for messing up the painting go kill yourself right now. And you think no no let me fix this I just need this new coat of paint to dry then we can add a new good layer this time and wait.

What I'm saying is I'm tired of my brain defaulting to killing yourself. But I'm still waiting for paint to dry while. Having the static stabs all over my brain. It doesn't make sense but I have things I still need to do. I still haven't lined Cammy yet gosh diddly

Here's one from yesterday:

Whatever I do dad will be upset at me about it. None of the things I do will get me money. Hobbies are useless. We are all going to die. It sucks so much everything that's happening in the world. We can be bombed tomorrow and it will all be over

What we post online won't last forever unless someone cared enough to save it. All the memories you hold in your house can burn down with a dry rag on a hot oven.the thousands of dollars you sunk into something you love can be crushed under a weak tree. I've had this disgusting pessimistic world view since I was 9. I don't get it. It's deep in my humanity under the fake optimism and smile I'm forced to wear on the special occasion where I have the energy to go out into the world. I can be stabbed or sliced by a machete by a deranged man who already gave up on reality.im just a random unfortunate citizen that can succumb to natural disasters. All the photographs that hold onto memories by broken brain can't remember can be washed away in a flood or a bursted water tower. Everything is temporary. Nothing stays. So why can't I just enjoy them. The negatives bury me. The nihilism is just darkness. I wish I had the desperation to just believe God will save us.

Here's from this morning:

Ya know I think I'm too afraid to start something because I don't want things to be unfinished if I were to disappear. Like if had something that would link me to earth I would strive more to finish or get far to have a legacy. I never had a legacy or if I did I buried it years ago with glimmering and hopeful eyes. Bags are forming under my eyes now. I'm no longer looking like I'm 16 my physical appearance is starting to match my age the instant I stop smiling and it's awful awful. I want something left behind but I'm so set on dying I don't even make an attempt dumb dumb

Here's one from just now after one two many YouTube ads and me dropping clay on the floor just now:

I'm reigniting the rage and need to die Everytime my weak trembling hands let stupid shit through my fingers. I can drink a whole bottle of vodka. Will it make the anxiety worse or better I'm going to cry I can create. Amolotov cocktail and just burn the house down. I can make the death of every memory that is put to paper fucking disappear. We can make a psych waiting room magazine filled with my rant. They can say "look at this stupid idiot complaining about nothing. These are obvious ramblings of someone who needs help. If you write like them that's just a rough draft to a shoe cide note you know. So make sure to get your help right away."

Is this a cry for help? I don't want to admit it is. I just want someone to confirm there's something wrong. Or drag me away somewhere safe because I won't be able to to do it myself. I'm torturing myself trying to keep everything hidden and safe. But I don't think my body is built to keep things hidden. I'm trembling. I can't sleep. I'm crying. I sleep too much. I'm on my period. I'm on different medication. Alcohol is so tempting. There's nothing wrong in life. There's something wrong in my head. It doesn't make sense. The world can't accommodate it. There is no peace. There is no quiet. There is no healing. There is no waiting. There is no break. Time keeps moving. Things keep breaking. Things keep ruining. Things won't be fixed. Things get changed.bthinfs get remade I feel everything around me I feel nothing I shake I twist in aching it's hurts I've been broken words don't make sense they mean nothing I wish I knew another language I wish I had the capacity to learn new things I wish the brain would stop making up new problems to worry about I wish I could do things I wish I could start things I wish I could finish things I wish people understood I wish my family understood j wish they wouldn't get mad why is everyone looking at me why do I have to do everything why do I have to make allt he choices why is every choice wrong why is the room so hot why am I so cold I'm sweating I'm not trembling I'm crying my organs feel like they're vibrating these ads are so annoying why can't I listen to music there's too much noise I hate this stop playing the same song over again I have no new interests I can't play games anymore I'm wasting my days my youth is just lying in bed and wishing to die where is the stride what happened to my passion what happened to me why do I forget who I am every day who was I yesterday what is yesterday what is time. It's February.

Oops there goes another one of those ADHD rants haha aren't our brains so silly????