Not sure what to say, or if I can

I can't tell people. I can't speak up. I can't open up now...

It's that same mode all over again; being trapped so deeply within myself that I can scream so loudly, only to have it rebound from my inner walls back at me, and trap me in a net of hellish noise.

I do not want to be here right now. Let me tell you something about being on like 16 meds a day: it sucks. It sucks a lot. Especially considering I'm not stable, despite the fact that this is the best cocktail of medications I've ever been on. Fuck, fuck, fuck, and I'm not even anywhere close to resolving my health problems. In fact, multiple can never be resolved according to science as we thus know it.

There's a pattern I tend to follow, which is when I get depressed, I close off more and more, little by little, until I'm so trapped inside, I can't ask for help no matter how much I need it. For example, I can't tell anybody I'm suicidal.

I feel so hopeless right now. It doesn't matter if I look backwards, concentrate on the moment, or look forward... it's all darkness. I don't want to be here. At times like these, there's nothing worse than being trapped inside of your mind.

I have a lot of ways I'm fucked... I used to self-injure (still have inclinations), I used to abuse a shit ton of substances as a coping mechanism (I probably still would if I had access), I have done anything and EVERYTHING I could think of to shut my mind down when this has happened previously.
I'm so dangerously close to giving up and withdrawing, it's not even funny.

Nobody realizes what's constantly running through my head. Could you imagine having thoughts of suicide almost every day, almost the whole day? That's how it used to be for me... it's not as bad now but it's still not good. It doesn't help that I have disassociation issues. Many times, nothing feels real. Not this place, not you, not me... nothing. It doesn't feel like it matters in any way if I live or die. I guess that's the truth for me, most of the time, so the only reason I submit myself to the pain of life is through some sort of neurotic masochism that I don't even want. Why do I even bother?

Regression... if people knew I was depressed, it wouldn't even matter. Nothing matters. I'd rather not go back to the psych. ward again, though... been there too many times. How pathetic is it to be a failure at suicide?

So somebody's trying to talk to me right now. Yeah, I can't break out. As if I could say how incredibly fucked over I am right now. I become very cynical like this. Very agitated at everything. The only thing that can help at times like these are medications... in other words, nothing right now.

Thoughts of suicide won't get out of my head. I'm trying to distract myself, but with intrusive thoughts, it just doesn't work that way. I've gone to such lengths as bashing my head against concrete to try to make my thoughts stop. It's that bad.

I've had suicidal thoughts my whole life. As I child, I used to speak with a friend each summer at a get together, and speak freely about what our ideal ways to die would be. My whole life is bullshit. I want to give up so badly right now, and often I don't even know why I bother holding on. People praise me, saying, "You're so strong." and things of that nature, but no, I'm not. It's simple really. If I'm not dead, I'm alive. The reason I'm not dead is because I'm alive. That's it.

Everything seems so fake and superficial. To withdraw or not to withdraw? That is the question... I'm not with it at all right now.