Quote:
Originally Posted by Vanilla
I've been depressed, in some ways it still lingers around me like a smoky haze. It shocked me one night a couple of weeks ago as I got drunk alone so I could sleep and contemplated going to the kitchen, getting a knife and stabbing my stomach with it. When I woke up the next day I realised how ridiculous that idea was, but there is still that chance if I was upset enough, maybe I would have done it drunk.
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This is going to sound weird, but I played out the same scenario in my head in the last year and it scared me how much detail I put into it. I started thinking that I'd just grab the biggest knife in the kitchen and plunge it into my chest... then I decided it would be utterly selfish to allow my flatmates to discover what I'd done in that way, not to mention that it would taint the house. So I mused over all the secluded areas where I could do it, places where I wouldn't disturb anyone or be prevented from doing it. Thank god I haven't plummetted to that level since.
The first time I realised I was depressed was about 9 months ago when I got pissed with my flatmates. Normally I'm a pretty happy and jovial drunk but that time, I was just morose and disconnected. Completely flat. So I sat down the end of our hallway for a while with the lights off, and later lay flat on the lawn outside. I know it doesn't help that alcohol is inherently a depressant, but that's not to say it can't reveal truths, feelings and moods that you choose to ignore and even suppress by day.