Wanting to give up

I didn't succeed in having the 4 drinks my psychiatrist wanted me to limit myself to. I really don't remember exactly how much I drank. I had a rough night. I had a very hard time staying asleep despite the alcohol. I finally gave up and got out of bed. I felt so nauseous and tired.

I feel like my brain is especially obsessive lately. I guess because I don't give myself enough opportunities to get the thoughts out. I spent quite some time obsessing over what to do next. I had to eat lunch. I had to decide if I would drink before seeing my parents. I ended up having McDonald's and going to Central Market to buy hot cross buns because I keep seeing people post pictures on instagram, but I don't think I ever had one. I tried to find individual/small bottles of wine there and didn't find what I wanted. I decided to go to the liquor store since I needed vodka anyway.

I had a good dinner with my parents. I drove home obsessing over my mental health and work concerns. I feel like giving up. I feel like overdosing to see if that would truly destroy my liver. I played out imaginary conversations and what I would say if I am asked how I am doing. I know that I want to confess how poor my health is and my fears about losing my memory or my ability to work. I want to express my desire to give up and self destruct and do those behaviors that will either kill me or end with me being hospitalized. I thought of what I would really say which is that I don't want to worry people and telling the truth worries people. I worry that with coworkers their opinion of me would change if they truly knew how many times I have been in treatment. It's a dozen psych ward stays, 2 residential, and countless iop and php attempts. I have spent tons of money on therapists and psychiatrists and ridiculous numbers of medications. I don't think most people can really comprehend severe mental illness. They don't know how crippling it can be. They don't understand what it's like to try to function. I sometimes wonder if I am really able to keep a job. My attempts at work and school have really been a cycle frequently interrupted by hospitalization. I debate if this means I need longer term treatment or if I am overreacting and really should be able to work. I think it's the former because I don't think it's healthy to think that 30 is a good age to die.

I am home now and attempting not to think because I feel like it could only end badly.

"And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty,
And like the cat I have nine times to die"
Sylvia Plath "Lady Lazarus"
Does it foreshadow anything that I wrote my senior paper on this poem in high school? That was more to do with other lines, but still I am 30

"Dying is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well."

The last year of high school was oddly the least suicidal I have ever been. I lived past my planned suicide date; and having survived that, I decided to just live. I was accepted to college, so it didn't even really matter how well I studied. Still, that poem has always brought out something in me. I wrote a paper on Lady Lazarus and thought it funny? to pain a mirror with lines from the poem Mirror. Despite its many attempts to fall off the wall and kill me (do not hang a mirror with a wooden frame above your bed with 3M strips), it still hangs in my bedroom.

*** Next day edit
So I took 10 Diurex (pamabrom) today. Recommended dose is 1. I was going to take Tylenol but couldn't find it. I don't think it's a good sign when I spend so much time contemplating overdosing in the morning.