Sick Enough

 The voices continue to tell me that I'm not ill enough to go into the hospital. They may have a point. There's a continuum in suicidality, and it's hard to figure out where I stand. You want to go into the hospital to get help before you swallow the pills, but you don't want to fuck around if you're like me, someone who thinks about suicide, all day long, week after week, month after month, year after year. 

When, then, do you know it's the right time to go into the hospital? It's more of a gut feeling, of when things start to get out of control. I'm having negative thoughts about my dog, about her dying, about her being killed. That's new. I feel a compulsion to act--that's new. Am I a danger to myself? The voices, the previous suicide attempts, the depression, all these things add up. The Advisor asked me why I wouldn't go into the hospital if I knew I needed help. Why not? I have a hard time asking that question as well. Which is why I'm leaning heavily towards going in. 

I need help, but am I sick enough to go back in? What exactly does that even mean? Sick enough? I could steal the gabapentin pills. I could make a statement.