This is the first blog I've ever had. My blog virginity is officially lost.
A little bit about me: I'm not yet 18, I'm female and white, and I tried to kill myself on April 14, 2009. That sounds like something from AA, but I'm not a drunkard (yet). I spent a little less than a month in the Looney Bin after my attempt. I was discharged on May 14, 2009. I live in Canada, and I'm in university, studying physics.
Right now I'm taking 60mg/day of Celexa (citalopram) but hopefully that is soon to change. Celexa has been effectively useless for me. I am nominally in "therapy" right now. I've been in "therapy" ever since I was in the hospital, but I think it's pretty useless. Part of this is my fault: I am very unwilling to discuss things. I don't want or think I need help. Part of the problem is the person I'm seeing: they just can't seem to accept that I don't know the answers to some things and they make a lot of assumptions about me and what I'm doing or saying that don't necessarily correlate with reality.
I'm not entirely sure why I started this blog. I don't think anyone will read it. I keep a paper journal, but that is read by outside interests. Maybe this will be too, but the critical distinction is that all of the Internet can't put me back into the hospital. I think I want someone to talk to who can talk back but can't cry in front of me or give me strange looks for days. I can't talk to many of my "meatspace" friends because many of them don't know about what I did or I think their advice and ideas would be . . . unhelpful. Talking to my family is even worse than talking to my therapist. Not that I want or need the great unwashed Webosphere to be my Agony Aunts. I just want someone(s) to talk to.
I'm still not sure what my exact feelings on my suicidality are. I have good patches and not so good patches, like anyone else. I've been diagnosed with Major Depression and Dysthymia (fun fact: the name for this comes from an Old Greek word that's very roughly equivalent to "life force" or "elan vital"). I know I've had the depression and its symptoms for at least 5 years, or at least since I started high school. I don't remember my middle school years that well. I think I was pretty normal, mood wise, in elementary and before, but again I don't remember very well. My April 2009 attempt was my first attempt, or, possibly, my 1.5th. I overdosed.