Ok. So.
Get this, lol.
One of my old familiars (wizard stuff, like, a small helper spirit) started screaming at me tonight. Like, holy shit, lol. I mean, in a good way, basically imploring me not to kill myself. Really weird experience, that was. This necromancer shit can be really odd, lol. But seriously, like screaming screaming. Begging, pleading me to get myself straightened out. It was surreal, to say the least. Little familiar there was… frightened. Quite so, because I guess it would die as well. Or maybe it just likes me, IDK. But yeah, screaming screaming. It wouldn’t stop until I actually talked with it.
But it’s still not convinced.
Afterwards, I reread the last few, like 5 or 6, posts of mine and… wow. I need serious psychological help. Like big time.
I mean I knew it but man, wow. I am seriously on the edge here, lol. I mean I just mulled suicide over again- yes AGAIN- for like an hour tonight. This was after the familiar thing. Also before. It was like, an hour here, and then an hour there. But yeah, an hour after. 2 hours total.
So. Yeah this country is exquisitely shitty, obviously. Me being suicidal does not let the media or the government or anything else off the hook for anything I have said below. Or Cady, or anything.
But still, yeah I need serious help. I mean, it’s literally three in the morning, and I’m high on drugs, doing… THIS, lol. Pretty much the definition of “rock bottom”, I would think.
I just want out. The quicker the better.
Or help, but fuck knows where I can find it. It’s nowhere.
After I name checked Debby Ryan and started talking about killing myself and Cady Groves and all of that, she put up on her twitter some pinnned tweets about suicide prevention. For… girls. Not for me.
It’s NEVER for me.
Never.
And that’s a problem.
There simply is nothing out there. I mean I could pay exorbitant amounts of money for therapy (which I don’t have) or… what? I don’t know, truly. I’m a middle aged non-jewish white man. Where the fuck do I turn to for advice? To whom? Seriously. Where the fuck do I go?
I honestly have no idea.
I mean I could call the national suicide hotline, or something. But then what? And what if they come and arrest me, or something? I mean, “for my own good”.
And fuck I can’t tell anybody. With red- flag laws the way they are… no chance, lol. With me being me, if I was even remotely honest I would be hauled away for thought crimes before I even finished my story, haha. I can’t tell anyone, I can’t be honest with anybody, ever. I’m too white, too gentile, too male. And I don’t have the money- being a white male is excusable if you are rich enough. If you’re not, you’re utterly doomed.
So where the fuck do I go?
Beats me, lol.
I guess I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing now and hope it turns out for the best.
I have no other ideas.
It’s just… I need to talk to someone, and there is nobody there that I can talk to, or even to point the way to me. To make it obvious what it is that I am supposed to do, and how to do it. Like, what do I even do, here? Can anybody help me? I KNOW you’re reading this. What. The fuck. Am I supposed to do?
Someone?
Anybody?
Hello?