One week from today

I have one week left to decide what I'm doing about my pdoc. This should be an easy decision and for some reason it's not. Nothing is ever easy. All these damn contradictions screaming in my head. One minute I think I know what I want, and the next I'm clueless again. Think it's just fear of saying the wrong thing. I know I don't want to take medications anymore. But if I'm questioned about why, I run the risk of getting set off into a rage where I can't control the things I say. It's happened before and quickly spirals into a showdown between me & those trying to "help" me. I usually end up being the loser of course.

I've been able to maintain reasonably well since being off the meds. I do a lot of crying, which I find to be more of an annoyance than anything. Comes on with no warning and takes awhile for it to stop. The rage has been pretty steady. It's almost a constant now, which in some ways is better than the massive eruptions. Suicidal thoughts are still there, with more planning going on, few more details that need to be tweaked.

I think this is the way all deaths should be...well planned out. I know that's not realistic since accidents happen, but it would be ideal. I don't understand why everyone has such a problem with death...we will all die eventually. I don't see anything morbid about planning your own. I think it's an extremely wise idea. You get to take care of all the details and don't have to burden someone else with it. Maybe I'm just weird.