The last three-and-one-half weeks have been the worst of my life. It started with a total emotional breakdown during which I questioned whether I was having a schizophrenic break with reality. I was not. Things were so bad and so unbelievable, however, that I think it was appropriate to question whether what I was perceiving was real.
I have spent the last 45 minutes trying to gather the information to describe what has happened. I have only collected a small amount, so I will not be able to publish the details of the bizarre things that have happened. I am too tired and too overwhelmed to continue.
That is probably the major issue in my life right now: I have asked for help but everyone says that my life is too complicated and overwhelming for them. If my life is too much for other people, healthy people, to handle, then it is obvious that it is too much for me to handle.
I am out of ideas. This misadventure began when I tried to implement my last idea to find help. It not only failed but it has damaged me even more than I already was damaged. It is difficult to underestimate how much help I need; most people cannot, or do not, believe how much help I need.
I do not want to be alive anymore.