Clearly by messages I received after first posting this I need to clarify something.
“I AM NOT SUICIDAL
I AM ADRIFT
in my own thoughts“
People read far too much into things and only see what they want to see.
This piece of writing is merely to show you what goes through the mind of someone who, like myself suffers from depression. If you know me by now you know I am about as REAL as it gets. I don’t sugar coat things for entertainment purposes. This is the real shit right here. How a depressed mind can wander into despair from underlying stresses of life and frustration in which we have no control over. Have I felt like this before HELL YES I HAVE!!! Does it happen often? No, but it does happen. Recently I had no other choice but to go off my meds for a time for lack of finances and during that time I was near rock bottom with thoughts of just ending my life rather than suffering brain tremors, sickness and pain but I know myself and I know what I have to do to get through the rough patches. But, I also have dear friends that suffer the same and recently one of them tried to take their own life and I have others who are nearing their breaking points and for them I truly know how it feels to hit that place of emotional agony which is what prompted me to write this.
Never assume you know what is going on in someone else’s life when you haven’t had a conversation with them to find out what is going on.
Am I at a low point in life right now? Yes I am, but I know what to do to get through it and if I have to go away for a while that is what I will do.
How can I explain this to a world who sees only what it wants to see?
I’ve all but given up.
I just don’t feel like me.
I live with Depression, it’s all that I know and it’s accompanied by Anxiety and a Chronic Pain Illness known as Fibromyalgia.
But the Depression, that is the worst of it all. Where did it start and where does it end?
I’ve lain in my bed for near four months now, since I lost my job in April. I get up only when I have to. I’ve pretended I matter, pretending I can get through it. It’s all bullshit, you know? This life thing, living it to the fullest. I call bullshit on myself. I wear a fake smile so no one sees my pain. I’m chipper with my friends in public forums. But I spend my days alone, curtains closed sitting in the dark curled up either in my bed or on my couch watching tv or movies. I’m at the point where I don’t even want to talk to anyone any more. What’s the point, what’s it all for?
How can you live to the fullest if your brain malfunctions all the time. Life, for many of us is cruel, tormenting and just plain painful. Who created suffering, who created pain and why do they exist together. Sleepless nights, tossing and turning, shadows on the wall calling us into the darkness and watching us fall.
Depression, the ugliest monster of all, chews on our grey matter, gives us a feeling of sucking our eyeballs from their sockets without them moving at all. Lack of energy, appetite and the will to live. Painful stomach cramps and constant trips to the washroom. Can’t eat, can’t sleep without prescription pills, our skittles, if you will. Can’t function without antidepressants and pain meds. Horrible thoughts of how to end it all. Lashing out at anyone in our angriest hours from constant frustration. Acting out as if it matters at all. Feeling hollow and empty, why is this our norm. Deciding how to take our own life, the day, the time, the method. What’s easiest, what’s the quickest, what will hurt less, what’s the fastest way to go. Who will care, they’ll miss us for a minute and then we’re forgotten. What happens after we go? Do I fill the tub, slit my wrists or get drunk and swallow a bottle of pills. Do I wrap this rope around my neck. Do I jump off this cliff. Do I crash my car into a wall, jump off a roof as they watch me fall?
These thoughts, though scary, are realities that all of us who suffer with depression feel at certain times in our lives. We have no control over them. Though morbid to those of you who have no idea what it is like to have these feelings they are very real. The fight to force ourselves to survive is taxing on the body and mind. Some of us fail and some of us succeed but the rash of pain left behind in the wake of such things is not something the survivors of suicide deserve. To many unanswered questions and an ocean of guilt. What could we have done to prevent this. how could we not see the signs.
The fact is you are responsible for yourselves, your health, your actions. You can’t blame anyone else for what’s going on but you can ask for professional help. You don’t need someone kissing your ass and agreeing with everything you say. I live this, I know full well what it feels like. On April 8th I had surgery and on April 24th I lost my job. Being steadily employed for the past 13 years to nothing will crush you emotionally, especially when you are used to being the main bread-winner and paying for everything and making sure your kids have everything they need. My health has deteriorated badly for over a year now. I still have no answers as to why.
On September 2nd I will go for a head MRI and maybe, just maybe, I will get some answers and know how to manage this. Until then I quietly glide through each day alone in my suffering and keeping to myself. I’ve found it useless asking for help from friends and family, no-one understands unless they live it and those who live it are usually in too much of their own mess to help anyone else. Then there are others who say they understand and you come to find out they are only mimics, meaning they are perfectly healthy but mimic an illness to gain attention for themselves, this is a whole other type of illness in itself and frustrates the hell out of those who are already suffering making us feel victimized on top of everything else. I’ve seen it, the drama, it angers me and others but there’s nothing we can do but try to ignore it. Although I have called a few out on it, I’m not afraid to. While I and many others lay dying inside, these attention seekers make up dramatic situations for attention because they feel left out. Well boo-fucking-hoo! Get over it. For those who suffer legit illnesses I feel your pain, I empathize with you. But those of you who pray on the weak and dance around laughing at our suffering, shame on you!
Mentally I, like so many others, am nearing the end of my rope. Having suffered two nervous breakdowns and a near third at the hands of an abusive ex, I can feel it building, that at the end of my rope feeling. Thoughts of how to end it all. There’s no point in reaching out, most of my friends suffer the same ills as I and I cannot burden them with my turmoil so it’s better to just stay away. No-one can fix me but me. No-one truly gets me.
This is where fantasy/imagination and daydreaming comes into play, it takes me away, makes me queen for a day. Watching movies allows this to take place. We can be anyone, do anything. I have no pain in fantasy land. My worry shuts off and that for me is just grand.
No-one wants to hear how sad I’ve become, how much I hurt, even my loved ones.
So why bother saying anything at all;
I’m not the only one.
If I should die before I wake
know it wasn’t your fault
it was just more
than my poor damaged brain could take
it hurt so much I could not go on.
If I should live to see the sun
then this is one more battle that I have won.
Please let me wake just one more day
there’s still so much I have left to say
I promise today
I can’t promise tomorrow
my heartache brings tidal waves of sorrow
I don’t know why I feel this way
I wish, I wish, it would just go away
If I should die before I wake
then I failed myself and couldn’t make those horrible feelings go away
I leave you my words as real as they are
Remember me fondly but from afar
I leave you a light to find your way home
Always take it with you wherever you roam.
I leave you a rose garden to walk through at night
so gaze to the stars and the quiet moonlit night
I will be out there watching you grow
shining forever, just so you know
you are never alone.
This is what it is like to live a day inside the mind of someone who suffers Depression.
So be cautious of what you say and how to react.
Today could be the last time you ever hear from them.
Show some compassion.
For now we’ve all but given up.
As for me, I’ll See you when I see you.