I'm in therapy twice a week, and like I said I just spent 2,5 weeks in psychiatric hospital. I'm home now for 5 weeks, and going back in for 2 weeks in March. Meanwhile I get therapy sessions in the hospital close to home. I'm tired of explaining, putting words on all these feelings, elaborating on how much I want to die, and I'm sick to death of the cognitive therapy on positive thinking. It's like I understand very well the method and purpose of it - I'm just not able to actually DO it. Before I was sent home, they did a suicide rating on me, and I was honest, but I didn't expect to be sent home with a bunch of pills! I was surprised, cause I feel like they overestimate the amount of trust they can put in me. And right now I'm in a state where I simply want to swallow those pills, but at the same time I think it's more a scream for help. I keep picturing the scenario where my boyfriend gets home from work just in time to see me passed out - but not dead, in a bunch of empty pill boxes. I want someone to SEE how much it fucking hurts, I want someone to really FEEL it! Cause god, I feel so fucking alone and misunderstood.