Are people actually supposed to live like this? This isn't living, this is just sh*t. A normal life involves healthy interpersonal relationships, activities one enjoys, some sort of happiness at all. I'm 30 years old and one of my girlfriends works in home healthcare and she goes, "You're on more medication than most of my old people." Seriously, three pills for the mood stabilizer, four for anxiety, one for sleep (that doesn't work), one for depression, and one to block the alcohol and opiate cravings. We don't even really know what the long-term effects are for ONE of these medications, let alone all of them put together. I'm doing everything the doctors are telling me to do, and them some, and this is still the hardest period of my life. Alcohol was killing me. My damn liver shut down in October. But at least I would have died happily. I knew that whatever happened, whatever some callous asshole said to me that day, a couple drinks and it was all gone. No more. Game over. Vodka was my best friend, and my best friend damn near killed me. With my emotions going all up and down and sideways it's exhausting, and I still can't sleep. There has to better way than this. In a world of massive uncertainty there is one thing I know for sure. At this rate, I'm not going to make it another 30 years. There's this black cloud of emotional torture that follows me everywhere I go, and no one understands it. I'm all alone on this one. My ex-boyfriend would always try to tell me how much he was there for me and blah blah whatever. Really? Unless you're sitting inside this sick and twisted brain of mine holding my hand through these feelings that drive a person bonkers, then I'm all alone. The only one stuck in my head is me, and that's how it's always going to be. F*ck. My. life.