Fuck, if it’s not psychological problems, it’s life-threatening medical problems.
I OD’ed on propranolol last night like 90% for sure. I accidentally doubled the number of pills for some reason in my brain that made sense of the medication morning and evening dose. Sigh. Now my mom, my friend, and my psychiatrist are going to be angry at me.
What the fuck. I’m not telling my brother at least, but my mom will tell him. They’re all going to be against me. See? I almost died and I have to worry about antagonistic attitudes. These people are fucked up and I really don’t ever want to live with them ever again. I need to live on my own. Without all these fucking distractions in my life this never would have happened anyway. Mom’s idea of hiding my meds is the stupidest fucking idea I have ever heard of, everything she comes up with and hypothesizes is pure retardation, and I let her impose it on me and she never improves as a result. She’s just fucking dumb and it’s never going to change.
So anyway there’s the explantion for all that philosophical genius last night.
I feel scared right now, too, like I could die any moment. -_- Unless I hold on…
*grasps for dear life*