4:18 not very happy

OK this is my FIFTH attempt at posting. Posts 1 and 2 were requests for advice on suicide methods. Probably not entirely appropriate. Posts 3 and 4 had other stuff in but still wanted to know how to go about dying. I'm feeling much better having dropped my last 4 Valium, yeah man I quadroupledropped; I'm desperate). I slept from 10 till midnight. Got up. Mamma Mia my favourite film is playing. Sad perhaps but if you like Greece and think THIS is bad my simple advice: get a life. You gotta do what you gotta do. And if watching Julie Walters and Meryl Streep doing hairbrush singing to some pretty fantastic tunes (exceptions: Dancing Queen, Waterloo ukkkh) that's what I'm doing.

Michael Jackson is playing in black and white. BOTH the discs I tried did this. Why?? Is it my DVD player? How come it plays everything else in colour. Also both MJ discs do that thing when they need rubbing clean: pixelation and start-stop sound. And they were brand new, held by the edge and inserted direct in the machine. If 2 separate discs do this how do I know the other 2 copies they have aren't from the same batch? Because surely they produced an entire duff batch for it to do that.

OK Michael Jackson's on again: the BAD video and it's still black and white with jittering sound. I'm not wiping a disc I haven't touched with my hands so they can look at it and say "you scratched it" so it's going back tomorrow. Which is a look I can do without. Yeah I know part 1 is black and white but the BAD motif is bright red innit, also the "pick a track" selection was black and white as was the intro to it all. Why does this not happen to other people? Why me?

I'm not in a terrible mood but I'm not in a particularly good one either. Got a horrible feeling this is crashing lower and lower. It usually does it the same way; like a wobbly line plunging gradually down. Worst crash ever went from me phoning my Mum around 9am raging (ie very high but irritated); me having one drink en route to the methadone chemist and feeling high on coke (if drink did that to everyone every time shops would sell out overnight, trust me!) then my worker phoning around 11 when I was crystal clear. By 2pm I was curled in a ball eyes closed with vile imagery playing out like a bright inner tv picture. I saw darkness surround me and kept thinking I was in prison in some foreign country for some terrible crime. I felt really dire. It was either this crash or the next one a day or 2 later when the aerial fell off the tv and I didn't even notice the picture was barely there any more though the sound functioned. I stared into space for hours, got up, froze in the middle of the room not knowing what I was doing. Had to go out. Did it but couldn't handle anything about the situation. Got home and curled up into a ball again. That's what happens when it's bad. And I remember those days as the worst ever and I do mean worst ever in my entire life. Worse than heroin cold turkey. Worse than anything else in the endless line of mistakes, fuck-ups, misdemeanours, stupid moves and crises I've got myself into over 38 years. So if that's happening again I'm not engaging with no-one. Not going to NA, probably not going to Nutter Club. Not going to anything bar 2 appointments, one with the dr; another with the shrink, both next week.

My only hope is my jagged shaped mood pattern will whoosh up again from the low. Rather than an undulating wavy line it seems to coast gradually down then rush UP from the lowest point peaking within 3 days or so to a maximum high, coasting gradually down (the best bit, because I'm high but not disabled. Being ultra high means I can barely tie my own shoe laces, let alone "engage in activities with a strong regret potential" or however they phrase it (casual sex, compulsive spending, highly impulsive behaviour) my problem is more letting my mouth run away with me to the point of gross offence and being unable to judge what's supposed to be appropriate or inappropriate re what other people think. And I'd tend to think "fuck 'em anyway!". This high is very compelling. Unlike crack even (but more like E) I just get swept away with it all. And going with a flow, when that flow is pretty amazing, is a heady thing to do.

And you wonder why I'm terrified coming down. Coming down means feeling vile. I have had no "normality" for 9 or 10 weeks. Just ups or downs, some mild, some extreme. No "normality". I know normality is meant to be good. But what actually is it? Is it really so amazing? If it is, how come people who are "normal" appear so stressed.

This really pretty Swedish girl at an NA meeting, who seemed calm, as most anxious people appear superficially calm, said how much she worries. I could have told her how not to worry. No drugs are required. Merely a psychological tennisbat to WHACK bad thought, experience, ideas out of the head.

What Valium is coasting full-on now. Beautiful. Frankly I don't care how much I drink or how much Valium I pop. If that saves my life it's a good thing? Or is mine not a life worth saving? If so: you advise me on 100% lethal at-home suicide methods. Obvious stuff like wrist-slashing is out. It must be quick and quiet. I'll switch off my phone and make sure it's late evening so I have a good 8 hours undisturbed by unwanted landlordly callers. I need no opportunity to panic and change my mind. I need rapid unconsciousness leading to rapid death. So if you want me dead: please advise. I've put all comments on mods now so you won't get in trouble for expressing a sensible opinion. It's sensible that me and life are separated as quickly as possible.

Even God assisted suicide in the old testament. Remember the story of that weakling Samson who let a girl named Delilah rule over him. Thanks to her he lost his amazing strength and found himself grinding corn in a Philistine prison. During his "sentence" his hair grew. So when 5000 of the Great and the Bad, in a feast for their god, insisted "bring out Samson to amuse us" he was duly dragged from prison into the temple where he found himself stood between two narrow pillars. He prayed to God, "please Lord give me strength one last time" and God, who knows everything imbued Samson with strength to break these pillars down, bringing down the roof and killing 5000 aristocrats. God knows everything and was well aware that this last move would kill Samson also. Yet God engaged in Assisted Suicide. Does god EVER break his own rules? No. Meaning suicide is OK.

If I've desperately misread this situation, someone somewhere who knows intimately the issues involved, please put me right here.

O shit; past 4am; absolutely exhausted. Hope I sleep 20 hours tomorrow. I could do iwth extended bed. My I must be off I'm so val'd I'm cross eyed; night-night all!


ALL SAINTS: BLACK COFFEE