Well, my story is one of frustration, I hope that you are in for a decent read, as the story is somewhat long and convoluted.

The last month and a half have been incredibly hard for me. After missing a few doses of my AD medication, I had a really bad couple days, which seems to have been the ramp up period for everything happening in my life. I won't go into detail what I'm feeling, unless someone sees it needed to question what has gone on.

Well, the last month a friend of mine has been trying to get me to call a crisis line. She was worried that I was going to do something stupid, hurt myself, but mostly she wanted me to get better, to be able to enjoy life again. The middle of last month came around and I fell back to do something I hadn't done in over ten years. SI isn't part of my character, or I thought it wasn't anymore, and arguably was a turning point to where she knew something had to happen.

We all have those voices of doubt, frustration, etc in our heads, but when those voices become so overwhelming that they essentially debilitate you, something probably needs to be taken care of. The mere frustration of people around me, annoying, disrespectful, lacking courtesy, I feel so adgitated, irritated, frustrated when I have to deal with them, that voice shouting, yelling to lash out, physically, verbally. That fear of doing that pushing me to do those terrible things to myself once again.

I only cut myself once, a sickening feeling of guilt running through my body after that moment, the voice subsided, though was back the next day, my frustrations with the people around me growing to a breaking point. Every time they would get so bad I would only be able to close my eyes and see myself doing such terrible things to myself, though a better thought than lashing out at others. I felt it didn't matter if I was only hurting myself instead of random people whom I may or may not know.

My friend came out from college to see me this weekend and spent part of the day with me. She never knew how bad these feelings in my head were, though she knew of my SI in the past. I explained all that was going on though, and she was accepting of how bad things were getting for me.

I sat for nearly an hour, her stroking my head, holding my hand, before I had the courage to call the crisis line. It rang for a minute then someone picked up. I didn't know what to say, and it was akward. I could tell they were reading from a manual and it was discouraging. I tried to tell her about what was going on, though she put so much emphasis on the SI, though it was one incident in the last ten years. I tried to tell her about that voice in my head, how overwhelming it was, how debilitating that it was, but it was all but ignored. After finding out that I have insurance, wihch doesn't even cover mental health, she just ended up giving me numbers to call during the week. I needed help then but was shuffled aside.

I wanted to give up right then, admittedly I'm lucky my friend was there. She probably saved me from having another breakdown. The voices are there tonight already, keeping me from sleep, which I guess is why I'm up at 1:30 in the morning. I try to rest and clutch my body, my hands clenching around an imaginary knife and making an attempt to cut across my body. It feels like too much right now.

I feel like the crisis line is not even that. The lack of help, desire to help, do anything at all seems just worthless.