This post is just another blah, blah, blah about how desperate I feel. Please do not read if you are annoyed by me and my morose being, or if you are triggered by dark thoughts.
I am not writing this to reach out, or to help anyone. I am writing this because the urges and images inside me are overwhelming me. I need to get all these bad thoughts out of my head...I guess in a sick way my writing like this is a coping strategy.
Given my decision to write this blog, not just for myself, but for others to read, I often find myself afraid to write what I really feel. I try really hard to be genuine and honest, but sometimes I feel my unrelenting, chronic illness, its symptoms, my thoughts and behaviour might annoy, overwhelm, trigger, or burden other people.
This feeling of overwhelming and burdening others happens in my "real" life too. I feel if I share the truth, speak the truth, open up completely to my family and friends it places a heavy load on their shoulders. What the hell are they supposed to do with the information? It feels selfish to share such detailed and frightening imagery and information with them. So I keep the heaviest part of my load inside me, and then days like today happen and I feel like the load will tip me over and flatten me.
I have been sitting here on the verge of tears for the past few hours. At one point I called my Dad, ostensibly about something he might be able to help me with, but really I wanted to scream..."help me". Reason took over. My Dad doesn't even think I need help...definitely not the person to reach out to.
When my Stepmon asked me how I was, I so desperately wanted to reach out for help. I heard my voice quiver. About to break into tears I managed to squeak out, "fine". She did not notice and took my "fine" at face value.
I am not fine. My suicidal thoughts are so strong right now. I was in the gas station today, staring at the packages of rope. My brain kept saying buy it, buy it, buy it...do it, do it, do it. I managed to move away from the rope, only to be drawn to it again...three or four times. I left the gas station with no rope, but not without an intense desire to die.
How do people survive chronic MDD. As the years go by with nothing able to help me for any length of time Iam losing my resolve, my will to fight, my desire to live. I cannot see how it is possible to keep trying when I still feel so much severe depressive pain, isolation, fatigue, attention difficulties, memory loss and amotivation...these things have completely destroyed me.
I had lots of friends, went to school, worked hard, , both physically and socially. I did everything you are supposed to do to have a happy life.
I am not the person I see inside me now. I have become some monster. I have become the epitome of hell. I have become an empty vessel, an inanimate being, the living dead.
I am a zombie; dead inside, but walking directionless, searching and praying for a way to make the death destroy my shell as well. Why did this happen to me. I always tried so hard to be alive, vivacious and passionate about my life, and other people's lives.
Now, everywhere I look I find myself searching for a way out of this life. I see an car accident taking me away, a truck running me over, a rope hanging me in a tree, a dog leash and choke chain slipped around my neck and over the bathroom door, a leap from the Alex Fraser Bridge, a fall in front of the train, ...a note pasted on my door...someone help my dog.
Sing Yourself Into Breathing
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On a previous post, "Sheet Music" , I was extolling the value of singing
lessons. Harriet posted a comment about thinking about singing lessons to
help h...
15 years ago
10 comments:
I'm sorry I don't have an answer for you. I guess everyone has to decide for themselves if life is worth living. It's not up to anyone else, and it's everyone's right to make that choice for themselves.
But I want you to know that you can write whatever you want here. You are not a burden, not annoying, not overwhelming, and not triggering, at least not to me.
I wish I could help you though. I want to invent a magic pill to make you happy again. I would take one too.
I really wish that I knew what to suggest or say, other than that what you wrote is very familiar to me.
Sorry can't remember my id to sign in, hope the sitemeter will reassure you I reguarly check by, today I could not read and run,I identify so much with what you write, to feel so out of reach at the momment I am not in such a dark place and can tell you that there will be points in th efuture which will make you glad to be arrive, from the other side when you mentioned rope I saw rope to rescue someone slipped through ice, reaching out helping, wish I had magic words but know you are not alone, gentle hugs x mini
I understand how your writing is a coping strategy. Once someone asked me to explain why I had a blog and that is why I have one, though I couldn't come up with the answer then. I worry too about overburdening others and what they're supposed to do with knowledge of all the awful thoughts I think.
I think everyone here appreciates your writing, because you write how your feeling, you write what other people are afraid to write and I think that's a good thing. I hope something changes for you really soon. Take care.
I appreciate your honesty in your writing. I think that this is a good place to unload your thoughts. You need to write what you need to write. I find that writing is a great coping strategy as well.
As Harriet says, you are not a burden nor overwhelming to me either.
My thoughts are with you.
Don't feel bad for being candid about your feelings and thoughts. I would think that most readers have gone through the same thing (I'm going through it right now), so we are empathetic, not judging.
I'll tell you what prevents me from committing suicide. What if this is the only life we have? Do we really want to throw it away?
And I've seen the affect suicide has on family and loved ones. I've had three suicides on one side of my family, and it forever affected my father, who claims he's been on death's doorstep for the past 30 years. That in turn has made me paranoid that the few loved ones I have will get really depressed and commit suicide.
Hang in there. Cling to the smallest thing that gives you pleasure or comfort.
I was on a plane yesterday thinking the same thing. I was disappointed when we successfully landed. I was thinking a crash would be the perfect way to go - accidental, beyond my control, over with at once, etc. It's a strange, weird feeling being on a plane hoping it crashes.
At this point, it's a tossup for me between hanging and CM poisoning ala the hibachi method. Doing a lot of research, and getting conflicting information on the efficacy of each. Just want to make sure to do it right.
MisterX
Aqua, you ok? All of a sudden your posts are back to August!
I'm okay...(well...that's a relative term)...ironically the verification word on this response is "ailless"...I'm not feeling ailless, but I'm here.
I just removed my posts about the art place problems so no one there can read them
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