Waiting for death

Sounds drastic doesn't it? Waiting for death. But right now, and for a long time, that's all I am doing. I can't kill myself because I care too much about Liam and Mom. But I hate life and my life in particular. I get moments of feeling better, And then I go back home and feel shit again. I am angry and I am sad. Hysterical at times. Most of it gets taken out of my poor mom. She has never done anything but supported me, but I have no one else to talk to. I can't call people up when I am like this, and I don't want to pick up the phone as I am just crying and being angry and it's too hard for people to understand. They'll think that my anger is directed at them, but it's directed at myself and my life. It's also directed at the huge amount of crappy doctors and nurses I've met over the years. It's directed at the last doctor who wrote me a sick-note which was fucking awful. I can't possibly show that to my boss, I'd never get to come back to work if she saw that thing. And that's from a doctor whom I have just met, first visit. She spoke to me for about ten minutes, and after that she had her image of me clear, she spent the rest of the visit trying to formulate sentences in her computer. She didn't do a good job. She said, in two places, that I am "deviant" and that I didn't seem to be quite "there". Also that I kept reffering to my mother and just looking at my mother instead of her, the doctor. Well, I've met some 50 doctors in the last ten-fifteen years. I don't open up to them after a minute or two. And all she had to do was, in case as it was, that she didn't want to actually get to know me, was to read my old notes from doctors who actually know me somewhat. I am not deviant as in hard to speak to. I meet peoples eyes, and I can hold a normal conversation about pretty much any subject. I am not stupid. I do have bipolar 1 which is a diagnosis I'd rather not have, but that doesn't make me deviant. I have no one to talk to. My poor mother gets it all and I feel I put years on her from her worrying about me. It's very unfair to her.

But who should I talk to? I have a doctor who clearly have no clue. I have a contact person who doesn't contact me. I should think it would be routine to contact a patient after they've been an in-house-patient with a whole bunch of ECT, but I can't even remember my contact person due to the ECT. Or perhaps because he just hasn't made an impact on me in any way? Just another person in the world whom I have had to talk to at some point. There has been so many.

I am alone, as along as can be. I don't want this life of mine. I'd rather give it away to someone who actually want to live. I wish that was a possible thing; so many people want to live but still die. PLEASE take MY LIFE.

I've taken quite a few Oxazepam (sobril, oxascand) today. I took too many yesterday, I slept 14 hours.

On wednesday I have to move over to my moms house as the painters are coming to re-paint my whole room in my bedsit. I wish I could afford a hotel, but I checked and they cost too much for me to even think about. My mom is lovely but we have completely different life-styles. I can't sleep at nights, and she can only sleep from early evening. Usually she wakes up when I fall asleep. I cry all the time. I am angry and horrible. I wish I could afford a hotel. With WiFi. I could go down and have hotel breakfast and then go up and go to sleep.

If you feel like paying for a hotel for me, then by all means, do. The best one would be http://www.maudeshotel.se/ as it is right next to my flat. Meaning, I could go over and collect stuff on my own if I needed something from my flat.

I don't really want to beg anyone, so don't take it as something you have to do.

I basically just don't want to exist.