I don't want to want to die

I'm close to panic right now. I feel like pacing up and down the hallway. I know what's going on and at the same time I don't know. I have had fantasies about the hospital. About how safe I felt there. About how much attention I got. About how people actually tried to help me. Those fantasies put me back into the state I was back then. I feel suicidal, anxious and helpless. But this is how I have felt most of my life. But every time I got locked up it was just a tad worse. I usually have control, some kind of ignorance. I'm good at pushing away my feelings and my thoughts. My number one weapon is distraction. Do something so you don't have to think. Do something so the thoughts can't come out. So I read, I cook, I clean, I write. And I hope, I hope that all the bad stuff will leave me alone.

But today I'm thinking and feeling all the bad stuff. I feel helpless and hopeless. I want everyone to just leave me alone and let me die. I don't think it will ever get any better. I don't want to fight. The anxiety is so strong that I'm really close to panic, to just bursting into tears and screaming. And I think that's where the fantasies come in. I was in this state every time I got admitted to the hospital. And then I got admitted and people at least tried to give me help and hope. Right now I'm totally without help. There's no one who is responsible for my care. Even though I used to feel that no one could help me someone at least tried. And that made everything a little bit better. It didn't give me hope but it gave me some kind of rest because I wasn't alone in fighting my demons. 

Maybe I suffer from Stockholm Syndrome? Maybe I like the people that kept me locked up? No, I don't like them. Although I fell a bit in love with one of the doctors at the psych-unit. He eventually had to stop treating me because we had become friends and he felt like it was influencing his judgement. He was young so I guess he still had to learn. I hope we'll get in touch some time in the future again. I miss him. Anyway, maybe this can't be seen as Stockholm Syndrome as I was getting help and no one had done any violence to me. Though, psych-meds can be seen as instruments of torture.

I am just really a mess today. I don't want to want to die. Blah. My social worker contacted me today and he wants to meet me on Wednesday. I was close to saying no. He doesn't help me, he is friendly and nice but he really doesn't have the tools to help me. I don't want to meet him. I want to be left alone. At the same time I really want to scream for help. It's the same with the psych-center. I don't want to contact them because that would mean I'd have to fight for my rights, I'd have to be a pain in the ass. I am not good at demanding things. I don't want to be seen as a diffcult person. I don't want to be in the way. But at the same time, I need fucking help. I don't even believe anymore that I'm on some kind of waiting-list. They have probably just forgotten about me. If I ever write a suicide-note again (I have written several of them in the past), I'll mention them. I'll mention that they didn't help me. I'll mention that psych-patients don't have the strength to fight for themselves and that they have to do follow-ups. Damn it!

I don't want to be me.