Am I Just That?

I felt okay. I was okay but I knew it wouldn’t last. Self-deception I don’t know. Did I cause the bad feelings to come back? Maybe. I don’t really care how I ended up here again. I’m just here, again.

I did some ink sketching today of a fox. I think it looks okay so far. It was comforting to focus on for a bit and then I fell asleep exhausted on the couch. I just started thinking again today about my situation in life and how everything in my life has turned out the opposite of how it was heading and supposed to turn out. I blame myself but I also blame my parents for not enough support when I was going through a lot. I mean they knew, at least one of them did about my suicidal ideation and depression that started. Part of me doesn’t blame their lack of reaction however. I understand as a parent myself how stressful it is raising a child and how you don’t want to believe things are that bad for your child and the intense fear for your child. I did try to be different in that when raising my daughter. I wanted her to come to me before things got so horrible if they ever were. I didn’t want her to feel as alone as I always felt. As alone as I feel.

I do understand how difficult life is as an adult and how hard relationships and marriage are so I get it. It’s not easy being alive. No one can ever do it perfect including there being no perfect parents out there. I just wish I hadn’t made as many mistakes as I have in life. I wish I had the help I needed so I could’ve possibly had the career I strived and desired to have. I was the smart, hardworking and studying one. The kid parents supposedly brag to their friends about.

I secretly hope at night when I’m lost in thought that something will occur and I can say goodbye to this awful world and other times I fear that happening. Though it’s more rare for me to fear it. I feel so very alone and like I don’t have support. I don’t have anyone close in my life that I can really go to. When struggling mentally I can only reach out to strangers or people that get paid to help me. I ask for help from my parents now and they still don’t know how to help. I never see my family anyhow so I don’t know why I would think they could help. I’ve never had a close relationship with my siblings to discuss things with them either. We’re close but we’re not. My sister was nonverbal and developmentally disabled so if anything I helped care for her and my brothers, well, they’re just my brothers. I care a ton about them but we’ve never discussed feelings. No one in the family does. I guess that’s why I feel so alone now and why I did all my life. They never visit. They have way easier means to do so but they have careers and families too. They’ve done everything I was supposed to in life. Aside from my sister who was killed at 23; she never had a chance.

And here I sit, 1:30 in the morning having let another day go by without any accomplishment. At my age life should be so very different. I lie here hoping for the end of everything but the sun will still rise in several hours and life will continue on. There’s nothing I can do about my life and the direction it’s still headed.

I read a story online today about a supernova of some kind that has been barreling through the Milky Way in the opposite direction of all stars and space material at 2 million mph. This was what they think was part of a twin star system or something and is some portion of an explosion that’s been just traveling all this time from the collision. I feel like that’s my life. A collision/event happened and I’ve been sent hurling the complete wrong direction of everyone else in the world and there’s nothing I can do to slow down or stop what’s happening. This poor star has just been going the wrong way for millions of years with no end. I feel that helplessness. I feel the hopelessness that occurs from a situation like that.

I say I’m fine but I’m struggling. I fool myself into thinking I’m okay but I’m not.

Half Past 3…

I’m sitting here, it’s half past 3am and my depression/ mental pain is palpable. As if I were in intense physical pain but in my mind. I feel like I’m going to explode from the inside out. It’s like writhing uncomfortably in pain but imagine it happening in your thoughts- if you can.

I wrestle with thoughts of what I’m doing wrong and why can’t I do things right. I feel like I’m screaming into a black void where no one hears and I don’t even get an echo. My chest aches from heaviness and sorrow. As I stare at the ceiling in the dark images are scanning through my mind of the way my life could have and should have turned out. I feel tired, flushed, angry, sad, incredibly lonely and separate from the world. The other day a stranger touched my hand and it was such an intense feeling since no one has come near me let alone to touch my hand since probably 2019 (maybe even before then). It was a beautiful yet simple gesture and were I not so incredibly sad lately I would try to hold onto that.

I keep making mistake after mistake financially, emotionally and physically. My head is a complete mess and though I refuse to be evaluated- I know I need to be. There’s a part of me that knows it’s beyond that point and stupid things are coming. Am I going to fk it up like so many times in the past? I’m ashamed to get help because I feel I don’t deserve it yet I feel I do deserve it and I don’t want to be found in a stupid shameful position again. Would I love a superhero? Yes! Save me from myself, PLEASE. I’ve already decided if I did anything it must be absolutely unsurvivable. I’m not going through what I’ve been through ever again.

Everyone is tired of me, I’M tired of me. I’ve gotten straight up honest and told those closest to me that I need help. But what can they do? I don’t know myself. I’ve done everything including begging God to stop this and to please help me. I’ve told my parents and my husband that I’m struggling badly. – In their defense- what the fk do I expect them to help with?

No one cares including the strangers that claim to. And why should they?

There’s no way out of this. This beast won’t ever leave me alone. Sure it will go away for a few hours /maybe days but it always comes back. It. Always. Returns.

I can’t keep doing this, especially alone. I can’t. I simply can’t. Not anymore. I can’t keep waiting for something to change. I have to make that decision. I’m all about finding solutions and there are a small few with the same outcome.

The world has let me down but mostly- I’ve let myself down. My story will end as does everyone’s.

Asphyxia

There’s a song by Tones and I called, Dark Waters. Every bit of that song is me and my life. Usually there’s some part of something that doesn’t fit however this one just fits. It’s my life and I feel kind of sad that someone else feels that way out there too.

I stood by the water today listening to it as well as my music feeling the warm wind on a super hot day. I tried not to stand there and think too much but it was all I could do. I stopped to take pictures and a few video clips trying to catch the birds and the ambiance of the whole experience. I didn’t stay incredibly long and got back into my car to head home.

My brief afternoon

I got home a few minutes later and on my way home I had the impulse to check out some roads I’d never been to but decided to just go home. I left a 10 minute voice recording for Andrew, trimmed 2 mins off and sent it to his email. Started to cry and decided I needed to finish and send it. All while sitting parked in my car. I went inside the house and put off my emotions in order to function as best I could.

I had gone to a doctor’s appointment prior to all this and was asked about my depression questionnaire responses from several days back. I explained my usual and said I am seeing someone regarding it. Yes, I’m fine. I’ve got it taken care of/under control.

Truth is, I don’t believe those words I say much anymore. It’s become a repeated shallow response to not discuss things with whoever is asking me. I’m finding it’s getting harder and harder for me to stick out these depressive lows. As each year passes I feel lonelier and isolated. I don’t like being social but I don’t like always being alone. A good friend or partner has always been more comforting. I saw someone walking the bridge (no pedestrians are supposed to be on this bridge) a couple of days ago. I felt like stopping the car and asking if they wanted someone to join them. That was of course if they were there to jump. The cop behind me with lights on would have made that impossible. He passed and exited to re-enter the southbound portion where the person was walking. I find the idea of slowing down, rolling my window down and saying- “hey! Want someone to join you?” Quite comical but in a dark humorous and yet serious way.

Day after day these impulses hit me and are so difficult to avoid. More difficult than in my past. I don’t know if I’ll ever see Andrew again. We already aren’t together often, maybe once every other year and now since covid it’s been probably 3 years. Covid isn’t looking much better and the US isn’t allowing Europeans to travel here due to the new variant. I wish everyone that could would get vaccinated. I wish we could send them for free all over the world so we’d wipe this pandemic out entirely. It’s ruining lives and killing so many. It’s ruining my life. Not only am I struggling with separation, isolation but prices are up everywhere on everything and my disability benefit stays outdated from the 1970s. I was already living below poverty like everyone else on these benefits but we’re all drowning mercilessly. Disabled, seniors and veterans. Then I have my medical issues to deal with. I don’t know how to keep going anymore. It’s getting so damn hard to keep going.

I want help, I think, but nothing helps which makes me slowly pull away from everyone and everything. Most days I want to be lost in music and ignore the world. Everything is getting hard no matter how small whatever it is used to be. I don’t think I can keep going. I don’t know how to keep going. I mean not just existing- but living. Have I ever lived? Things I try to find fulfilling aren’t, things others find fulfilling I don’t.

I’m so tired. So tired of trying and trying and trying and trying. Tired of fighting impulses when I know it only takes one quick decision/impulse to no longer deal with this life. The world is such a horrible place. It just seeks to destroy me every time I open my eyes to a new day. I came to the realization several days ago about what I said before was my reason for staying alive ( because others want me to stay alive) and it’s an incorrect thought. It’s just convenient for me to still be alive, for them.

I’m sure an impulse will lead me, maybe not tomorrow or maybe tomorrow and possibly in a few weeks from now- I just don’t know. I just know they’re harder to ignore. I’m feeling really done with the struggle. I’m done drowning without dying. I can’t keep living like this. My mind is destroying me. The sadness and pain needs to stop. I don’t mean the way they do only to return again later. I have to silence it. Forever. Living this way is akin to a lifetime of torture by your own mind.

I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. No, I’m lost. I’ve been pulled by the riptide and I’m struggling to try to get back to shore. I’m starting to drown. Why can’t I just let go? Why do I keep fighting it when I have no reason to? There’s a book I was looking at reading called, I love you Jesus but I want to die. From the sample I listened to I truly feel that line but not sure if the book would be a fit for me. Then again, is anything a fit for me? Why even ask for help anymore. Crying does nothing and I already rarely cry.

The closer I get to each following day the more I realize that even if I feel better for a day or longer that I will always be right back in this spot. It will never go away. It will never fully stop. I will never feel I’m the person I should be.

I’m tired of choosing to stay one more day. I don’t want to stay anymore. Any excuse to shut my mind off permanently pushes me over the edge. I don’t plan on making it much longer in my mind. My depression has changed, evolved into some new kind of beast. It’s enormous, hideous and impossible to beat. I’m in my middle ages and it’s getting worse. It’s getting easier to make the decision to just stop living. What small light of hope I had is barely a flicker now. I’m being snuffed out. Maybe that’s good.

The Darkest of Days

Been feeling entirely detached and putting up walls all around me. I’d talked about that in therapy but I didn’t really get anywhere in figuring out why I’m once again doing this. It’s something I sort of learned to do over the years when stressed or hurt etc. I never realize I’m starting to do it until I’m in it. I become apathetic, not in any way empathetic or sympathetic. I close off in hopes I won’t care about anything. Then I have a nagging feeling hit me and I wonder why I can’t feel. I feel the abnormality of it and I’m uncomfortable. So this time I made a snarky comment to someone I care a lot about and though I fully expected a negative reaction their reaction was a thousand times worse than I’d expected and it hurt. Really bad. I finally just pulled away from everyone. Anyone I know in real life or online to them I was non-existent for about 3 days. With only my husband wondering over 3000 miles away where I was.

I sat in my apartment contemplating the disgusting nature of myself and other humans. I had not said anything mean online but got some harsh comments directed at me before I had the conversation that sort of broke me finally. I’ve found the best thing to do is stay away from most interactions on social media anyhow. I don’t like dealing with people who feel they can anonymously destroy others with satisfaction and go about their lives as if they’re perfect. I’m disappointed more and more with humanity in general as well as myself. I don’t give myself any kind of break, I’m human with faults that I hate too.

I don’t know how much more I can take in without it destroying my mental state entirely. I don’t even know how I’ve lived this long though I can’t say I didn’t try to end it and I also tried to push through. Medication seems to help less and less, I’ve been in therapy longer than I ever have been in my entire life and it’s nice to have a connection with a therapist for the first time. It only took about 22 years and many professionals until I felt I could really work with someone and felt they might just somehow understand and might be able to help me get through everything. However, most days it’s not enough. All of it. Medication, therapy, my own personal distractions and outlets I’ve found. Instead I have weeks of unending desire to just wish I was dead. That I would not wake the next day. Dreams where I’ve finally died give me such relief but when I open my eyes and see it was a dream- the nightmare of still being alive hits me with force. Like a slap to the face.

The 3 days I spent hiding from the world including from my husband I truly felt hopeless and helpless. I just hoped I would die. I’ve had a systemic infection for a while that got so bad I was losing my voice, losing weight and had trouble swallowing anything. I started my treatment and had to stop all of my autoimmune treatments/steroids. I got to the point I’d had trouble breathing and it may be what is starting to appear in my lung. Not positive on that yet. So I started having rapid worsening of symptoms when starting the treatment and was subsequently given new instructions to get my body to tolerate the medication fighting the infection because the other medicine out there for it interacts with too many medicines I regularly take. I started to get worse but then a little better. I missed a couple of days and now I’m so lost as to what dose to take and dealing with this terrible crushing depression with suicidal ideation that I just stopped the medicine for the infection. I tried to call my doctor and then my therapist but it was too late on a Friday.. so I’m left to my own thoughts and struggling to make it through until I might be able to connect with one of my providers.

The truth of the matter is; I’m tired. Tired of endless depressive episodes that cycle in severity and never end. It’s like there’s something eating away at my brain making my thoughts just want to destroy myself so I don’t have to deal with it all anymore. I have yet to find someone who understands this completely. I almost *want* this infection to come back full force and kill me. Render me so out of it that I can die peacefully. The world is nothing but pain for me. And for now I’m not taking anything to help it. I still take my mood medication and supplements for my health conditions but mostly? I just don’t want to anymore.

I fully admit I’m looking for the easy way out now. I’ve tried to be this bluntly honest with others in my life but I think they feel as if I’m telling them or doing these things to hurt them. It couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m completely alone. In my mind and in my life without the love and companionship I need and desire. People never stick around as friends especially when you’re 41 and your child is grown. Or like in my case mentally and physically destroyed on top of everything. I have nothing in common with others. In any manner. I’m broken, damaged and have so much baggage. I’ve lost so much in life and gained so very little.

Tomorrow is my daughter’s 23rd birthday. She’s the only thing I’ve contributed to this world and anyone who knows her knows how remarkable of a human being she is. Giving birth to her was the only selfless wonderful thing I did in life. By giving her to the world and being terrified for her future but I know whatever she does no matter how small it will surely cause a ripple of goodness across the world whether she ever knows or not about it. She’s so extremely special and full of love. I never want her to feel the pain I feel every day of my life. I wish I could’ve given her the world, given her anything she needed and wanted but I’ve never been good enough. She deserves so much better than I could ever do or be.

My sister died the age my daughter is turning and yet my daughter is grown she’s also so very young with many good and bad things she’ll have to deal with in life still yet to come. She’ll have challenges that are unique, friends that will always be there but also friends that won’t be one day and her heart will get broken. It hurts me knowing that people will hurt her but I know people do and will love her endlessly through it all. The best gift I was given and the best gift I can leave this world is her.

I’ve never done or been enough in life. I’ll die with no legacy and will be easily forgotten. It’s a sad truth and I’m just glad after death I’ll know nothing of this. One day we’re here and the next we’re gone. I always ask why was it my sister who died? She loved life. Now I sit year after year through attempted distractions, taking antidepressants, treating physical/mental pain, sometimes playing my own version of roulette with my life and I still exist. Dammit I’m still here and I don’t want to be anymore. Just waiting for the opportunity to have an easy way with a simple decision of refusing treatment and allowing myself to perish.

I can’t do it anymore. I’m tired of reaching out to people to have them try to convince me life is somehow important for a person like me. How am I supposed to keep going? I find no fulfillment in anything. I’m so broken inside, in pain and so very alone. If these experiences and thoughts weren’t painful then I’d be a walking corpse. I don’t want to think anymore. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I can’t feel worth or happiness. I’m so sorry I can’t push through things. I’m so sorry that I’m not strong enough. I’m sorry most of all to anyone that cares about my distorted self. I wish so much that I never survived my half assed attempts to end my life. I’m ashamed of how poorly it was always executed. I’m sorry I’m not strong enough. I’m sorry I’m not strong enough to internalize and understand my pain and suffering. I’m sorry everyone. I wish I knew answers. I wish I had answers. I wish I wasn’t sad and alone. I wish I’d fall asleep into a beautiful dream and not wake up. That it would finally, *finally* all be over for me. No more pain, tears, loss, grief and no more death- no more constant waiting for my own death to happen. Peace, restful peace with no more thoughts and no more pain. No more loneliness.

I understand why humanity needed to create superheroes. It’s incredibly sad and painful that so many of us need our own superhero. I don’t have one. I needed one. I bandage up what I can inside me and try to keep taking steps forward. But there are no more steps. I’m on the precipice, one more step and it’s my last. The darkest of days began a long time ago for me.

And I’m so sorry.