Emo Moment
May. 23rd, 2007 08:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
perzephone
Sometimes I get to these points of despair. I start wondering what the LD50 of the drugs in my drug drawer have. I found out Elavil was ridiculously high... that's an assload of little green pills. I couldn't find anything useful out about the Darvocet. Codeine looks promising - 800mg or so, but for a human of my weight it's probably around 1600mg. You know why they package codeine, oxycodone, hydrocodone, darvon & other narcotic pain-killers with acetaminophen? It's to deter people from OD'ing on them. In Canada, codeine is always pilled up w/Tylenol & caffeine - the caffeine counteracts some of codeine's effects. Tylenol is a nasty drug at toxic levels, causing internal bleeding and severe liver damage. Not that death by codeine is a comfortable experience either. Seizures. Why do all the good drugs cause convulsions & seizures? There's always datura I guess, good ol' tropane alkaloids. Too bad I'm so tolerant/resistant to their special effects. I've always been amused by the fact that atropine is an antidote to opiate poisoning, but there is no antidote for atropine. The tropane alkaloids also all cause convulsions. It's like the same things, over & over again: convulsions, respiratory paralysis and death.
I did read the side effects of Darvocet though, and it's kind of funny - it's not recommended for people with depression, suicidal thoughts or who are on anti-depressants. Darvocet is apparently a drug of choice for suicide. Even though it's a low dose & not technically for depression, I am on Elavil, which has its own history of being one of those anti-depressants that make depressed people want to kill themselves. I honestly don't think I need any drugs to feel this way, though, and I don't think the combination is making it any worse. It got worse the day I had to go back to work. It's an irrational indication of just how trapped I feel. I'd rather kill myself than go to work. Death seems so much easier than quitting & finding a different job. I'm so tired and death seems so easy.
The only thing that ever stops me is my failure rate. One of these times I'll fail & instead of just waking up & feeling like crap for a few days, I'm going to be in an institution. I don't believe that all failed suicides are a cry for help, sometimes you just survive. Sometimes, being a survivor sucks. Sometimes it's kind of gruesome. I'm the only member of my family to have survived alcohol poisoning. It's alarming how many of my family members have 'alcohol poisoning' or 'alcohol toxicity' on their death certificates. Not heart failure, not renal failure, not accidents or murders... just booze. Especially on my mother's side. Well, okay, so out of my mother's family, I'm the only one to have survived alcohol poisoning. I don't know if any of my dad's family ever experienced the unique joys of a week-long hallucination-fest followed by jaundice. Maybe it's because my mother's family does have some Native blood. Native Americans & other indigenous peoples don't metabolize alcohol well, & compared with men, women don't process it efficiently or effectively either.
(Dude, I totally did not e-mail any of the reports... my supervisor just called me & had me walk her through it. I was late to work last night, I keep forgetting my break slips... I was just sort of there but no one was really home. Someone shoot me.)
Ah well. Enough. I've got orphans to escort.
I did read the side effects of Darvocet though, and it's kind of funny - it's not recommended for people with depression, suicidal thoughts or who are on anti-depressants. Darvocet is apparently a drug of choice for suicide. Even though it's a low dose & not technically for depression, I am on Elavil, which has its own history of being one of those anti-depressants that make depressed people want to kill themselves. I honestly don't think I need any drugs to feel this way, though, and I don't think the combination is making it any worse. It got worse the day I had to go back to work. It's an irrational indication of just how trapped I feel. I'd rather kill myself than go to work. Death seems so much easier than quitting & finding a different job. I'm so tired and death seems so easy.
The only thing that ever stops me is my failure rate. One of these times I'll fail & instead of just waking up & feeling like crap for a few days, I'm going to be in an institution. I don't believe that all failed suicides are a cry for help, sometimes you just survive. Sometimes, being a survivor sucks. Sometimes it's kind of gruesome. I'm the only member of my family to have survived alcohol poisoning. It's alarming how many of my family members have 'alcohol poisoning' or 'alcohol toxicity' on their death certificates. Not heart failure, not renal failure, not accidents or murders... just booze. Especially on my mother's side. Well, okay, so out of my mother's family, I'm the only one to have survived alcohol poisoning. I don't know if any of my dad's family ever experienced the unique joys of a week-long hallucination-fest followed by jaundice. Maybe it's because my mother's family does have some Native blood. Native Americans & other indigenous peoples don't metabolize alcohol well, & compared with men, women don't process it efficiently or effectively either.
(Dude, I totally did not e-mail any of the reports... my supervisor just called me & had me walk her through it. I was late to work last night, I keep forgetting my break slips... I was just sort of there but no one was really home. Someone shoot me.)
Ah well. Enough. I've got orphans to escort.
