Trigger Warning: This post discusses suicidal ideation, depression, and mental health struggles. Please proceed with caution if these topics are triggering for you.

I feel as if I’ve reached the end of the road. No one cares about what I want for my life. I have no ability to live independently. There’s nobody to discuss my reflections on Jean Baudrillard, Deleuze, and Guattari, the intersection between the personal and the political, or the feedback loop between the delusions of AI and the delusional user. No one reads me and takes my ideas seriously. I may be able to think about abstract concepts, but I am also suffering from mental illness and am not likely to be able to hold a decent job, receive recognition, or find like-minded people. Most likely, I’ll just slowly fade away and lose my academic ambition. I’ve exhausted all my friends. I can’t think of any grant or scholarship for people with mental disabilities.

I love my mother, my sister, and my cute nephews. Securing funds for a master’s degree can be very challenging, and I don’t even know if it’s possible. So maybe, for now, I can just allow myself to indulge in suicidal ideations. I won’t do anything other than talk about it with my mental health team. I have these moments of suicidal ideation, and it usually gets better after that. I don’t want people lecturing me about what a good opportunity it is to connect with other people or to move to another city at the age of 40.

Also, I know that my friend with benefits is not going to initiate any contact with me. This isn’t a stable or healthy relationship. We just had some intimate moments together, things that I didn’t think were possible for me anymore. He called me beautiful, stunning, but it’s not likely to turn into a serious relationship. I can’t rely on him. I was just having some moments of clarity where I was able to read, write, and think with some lucidity. Perhaps I gained some insights I didn’t think were possible.

He won’t be reaching out to me. Let me have these moments where I remember how temporary my existence is, that I don’t have to grow old and become so lonely, that I can spare myself the cruel process of aging without a spouse or children.

writing this post with Chatgt will likely get me a permanent ban. Posting about suicide ideation or suicide plans is strictly forbidden. But what can I children of my own, the grief about this is overwhelming. Most likely I will have no one to visit me when I am old. Life can get very lonely.do? Yes, I am getting all the help that I can. No, this isn’t enough in my condition. I am diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, PSTD, and MDD- major depression disorder, drug-resistant. I am in the process of approval for Asketamine, which is prescribed for people who don’t respond to at least three different kinds of antidepressants. I spent a month and a half as an outpatient this year. I spent a total of three months at the closed psych ward last year. My latest episode left me with cognitive impairments that are very debilitating. I have cognitive impairments. I have a hard time with memory and concentration. Most of the time I seem very distracted. I have a hard time learning new things. I am unable to live on my own and take care of myself in the most basic ways. ADL. I’m not high-functioning. For most of the year, I have been staying with friends, relying on their kindness and hospitality, but it seems like I’ve exhausted them. My friend in Jerusalem asked me to move out within a month and a half. I don’t know where I’m going next. There is an option for group housing or assisted apartments in Haifa, but this is another city. I’m 41. Starting over in a new city where I don’t know anybody might be extremely difficult. Plus, I have a fear of getting old. I’m not likely to have children. In a few years, nobody will find me attractive. I don’t have the funds to pursue my academic ambition and get my master’s degree. I was grappling with suicidal plans all week long. I thought I’d get my hotel room and overdose of zopiclone. I have a prescription, for over three months ahead.I can withdraw it. zopiclone 7.5 mg, 90 mg. That would be 657 mg. I might be able to do it. End my painful existence. I didn’t get the pills. I ended up crying a lot and consuming a nonlethal dose of zopiclone and clonazepam. Tomorrow I’ll go to the daycare unit and ask for help. I also considered getting cyanide. I contemplated jumping or hanging myself. Please don’t tell me to get help, I already did. I don’t want to go back to the closed ward, it won’t help a bit. I lost all hope and once again the depressive thoughts are very debilitating. I’ve been like this for a year. I’ve been living in hell and I don’t have much hope that it will get any better. I don’t want to set unrealistic expectations. I don’t want to hear that it gets better. I’ve tried. I’ve tried so hard. I got so far. In the end, it doesn’t matter. I fell. I lost it all.