I notice that I often laugh when I know I inside I want to cry. For some reason I just don't know how anymore. Strangely, it's not part of any mood cycle, just psychological stress and triggers leading my mind into depression.

A few nights ago this got out of control to where I got out of bed, dressed, and went outside intending to kill myself, but I just stood there in indicision - I could not decide which bridge/building to jump off of.

So I was standing there in the cool autumn air, very tired, sedated by benzos, unsteady on my feet, my muscles so untensed that my body was kind of collapsed in an upright slump, and ready to die, except I couldn't decide which direction to start walking. The glow of the streetlights seemed to grow in intensity and then dim, my focus on the branches of a nearby tree swimming in and out of focus. I knew what was going on, had known it before I put my shoes on, just hadn't realized how bad it was - I had multiple system depressants stacked on each other. It explained the intensity of the depressive aspect, the indecision, the changes in lighting and focus, but I didn't care and in fact found it all amusing.

I don't know for how long I stood there trying decide where to go, but eventually my body became too tired to continue standing so I went inside and curled up on the floor expecting to easily fall asleep, but apparently I was too tired for that too. So I laughed. I laughed at how the sleep med I was prescribed now causes insomnia and predisposes me to depressive thoughts. I laughed at how it makes the desire to commit suicide so profound and yet is so sedating that it inhibits my ability to make the logistical decisions required to commit suicide. I laughed at the thought of going somewhere for help since the last time I accepted help led directly to this living hell. I laughed at a world which is not only indifferent to my suffering, but seems eager to increase it, as if inimical to my well-being.

So I laughed.

Ha. Ha. Ha.
Ha...