I'm Tired

I'm tired of this. All of this. This existance, this life, these problems, this family drama, these decisions. I'm tired of all of it. I'm calling it quits. I'm done.

I'm tired of things not getting better. I'm tired of being made to feel as if I'm stupid and have to justify my decisions. I'm tired of being asked questions and being told I give the wrong answers. I'm just tired. Mentally and physically exhausted by the burdon that is life. People will try to tell me that I should keep plugging away, that I need to just keep going, blah blah blah. That I have sooo much going for me, that I am so loved, blah blah blah.

Newsflash Ladies and Gentlemen:
                                   None of that means a damn thing.

Because at the end of the day, it's just me fighting this. I stand alone in front of a mountain that is unsurpassable. No one else has to deal with this, just me. Me, me, me..... and I don't have anything left. I'm just a shell of a former self. Hollow and gaunt by comparison. Lacking in motivation and drive to succeed. Without purpose or reason.

I'm tired of people telling me that I need to communicate with them cause "we can't help you if you don't ask" . Well guess what? If I'm not asking for help than I either don't want or need it. Talking (to thse people) solves nothing, it only creates more problems. More conflict. I'm not a fan of it in the slightest. Plus, my first response to someone in my head is probably better left unsaid.

I can't keep doing this to myself. I just can't keep going. I'm done. ALL DONE.

Moving out

Homelessness sucks

Religion Kinda Pisses Me Off

As my homelessness became a factor at the begining of this month, I jumped at the chance to stay somewhere (anywhere) with a friend. There were a few conditions, as it is her parents house not hers. The conditions were as follows: 1)help out with some chores 2) go to church with my friend. As by the title of this post, I'm guessing you can tell which condition I'm taking issue with.
At first I really didn't care, it was a place to stay so I figured I would just suck it up and force myself to sit through it. It's a Mormon church, to those who don't understand, these people don't just do a one hour gig on Sunday and say "bye, see you next week". Oh no. It's 3 hours of church stuff on Sunday in addition to multiple church activities during the week. I'm all Christ-ed out. I've been made to feel uncomfortable all week, as I personally don't believe quite as they do, about most things. After an hour and a half of them telling me why I have adversity in my life (apparently as a spirit child of god I asked for this mortal life of hardship) and that "God doesn't give you more than you can handle".

I'm calling BS. That's right people, I'm calling bullshit on that platitude. Cause you know what? This IS MORE than I can handle! Cause when this leads someone to opt out via suicide, IT IS too much.
Hearing that God wants me to suffer and struggle is not what I need to hear right now. Thank you so very much (heavy sarcastic overtone).
Also I hate that when I tried to discuss religion or my views on it with my friend that we end up at odds with eachother. Due to her faith, she thinks that she is right, absolutely, no other way. I on the other hand, acknowledge that I have beliefs that may or may not be "right". Religion, I feel, makes people incredibly closed minded and at some times mean.


Grrrr! I'm moody tonight. Sorry.

Never Ending Story

No, not the movie, the concept. Some things in life seem as if they never end. In my case, it seems like a never ending story of things going wrong. My life when it decides to fall apart does so in a massive way. In a multi-part saga of mini tragedies. I'm so tired of that, why can't I have a streak of good luck or something just not so sucky?

Even having depression is a never ending feeling. Why couldn't I be one of those people who actually responds to medication and gets better?

Grrrrr! I'm just so mad at everything and I hate that. That's not who I am or who I want to be.

Dead Like Me

"Dead Like Me" is an amazing TV show. The premise of the story is that Grim Reapers walk the earth and are given post-its with names,times, and locations to pull a soul before painfull death befalls them. They then escort the soul onward to ... let's just call it their afterlife.

Anywho, the first episode starts with a new to the job Reaper. She is learning the ropes of the job but is having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that they can do nothing to stop a person's death. In an attempt to see if she can alter fate, she moves a small child away from her regular seat on a train that is doomed to crash. The girl survives the accident due to the Reaper's interference. However, once the Boss Reaper finds out about her interference, he is livid.

He tells her "Every soul expires. Do you know what happens when you keep a soul around after its' time? If you don't take her soul, it's going to wither and die and rot inside her."

I have thought back on this quote many times. Sometimes I think, that's what must have happened to me. Because I remember being a different person, having a passion for life. But now, all that is gone. My soul is tired, I can feel that.

Did someone forget to take my soul when I should have died? Because I can feel it dying inside me, and I can't keep living like this.

Goodbyes

Leaving is always harder than one would expect. Even if you hate something and want to get away from it, routine is a hard habit to break.

Having words be the last thing between you and someone.
Saying that this is it, there will be no more. Sometimes for just a while, sometimes it's forever.
The questioning of what happens when you are no longer there.

Goodbyes are hard, but sometimes they are the only thing you can do.

It is just some pressure...

Thank you people I rent my room from. Like I don't have enough stress in my life right now. I have now been given an ultimatum: Get a job by December 1 or you can't live here. And I quote "Its not to be mean or anything, we just feel you need some added pressure to really get out there and get a job"

What a bunch of shit. I am barely going to be able to scrape together enough money to pay for some of my rent this month. So I guess no matter what, I'm moving out and doing it soon.

I really don't need this right now. I am hanging on by a thread as it is. Now I have people telling me I need more pressure? If other people felt half of what I do, they would have already killed themselves from the stress alone. I'm doing the best that I can to get by, why don't others get that? Oh, that's right. It's because they have absolutely no idea what it feels like to have to deal with this disease 24/7 without ever getting a break.

Where is Love?

I miss the sensation of being loved. I know that there are those who still love me, but I have somehow lost the ability to feel that on an emotional level. I miss it filling me up. I miss having love for life and its' possibilities. I miss that unquestioning acceptance of being who you are. I miss loving myself.

How can someone love you, if you have forgotten how to love yourself?

How would you even know that they did, when you have lost all recognition of that feeling?

*I apologise for the ramble

Five Years

To some it may not seem that long at all, five years. It's about 1,825 days when all is said and done. To me, it equates to one-fourth of my entire life. One quarter of my entire existence has been spent suffering from depression. The official diagnosis reads as "suffering from Major Depressive Disorder with a seasonal component". What does that mean? It means that not only am I seriously depressed most of the time, but when fall hits I get even worse. By worse, I am talking about suicidal. In five years of this disease, I have tried to kill myself three times, been hospitalised two times, and have irrevocably changed my relationship with my family for the worse.

In the past five years, I have seen more doctors than I can count. I have been on four different kinds of anti-depressant medication. I have seen three different councilors. I have done everything that you are supposed to do to get better, but none of it helps. The statistics read that 90% of patients get better within one year of treatment. So it would seem I must be part of the fraction of a percentage point that after five years, is still just as fucked up as when they started or even worse.

How do you fight something like this when you are so tired? I have been struggling with this for so long, I almost forget what it feels like to just be normal and happy. I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of trying. I am just tired of everything. It feels like my very soul is exhausted. I want it to be over and done with.

I don't want to spend the next five years of my life as I have the last.

The Back-up Plan

The current situation is this:
I am depressed
I am jobless
I have less than $200 to my name
My rent is due in the next week ($400)
I have no functioning vehicle


Yes, I am freaking out. Who wouldn't be? However, my anxiety has yet to move me to do anything to fix this. Why? I have no clue. Why do I let my life get to a point where I have no options, no way out, no hope, and no chance? I believe it is because of, the back-up plan.


Almost three years ago, I tried to kill myself. I do not believe in the phrase "attempted suicide". It somehow implies you weren't committed, prepared, and ready to be dead. I was. After you decide to kill yourself, there is an amazing calm that spreads through you. Everything else stops. You realise that it's truly over.


But to get there, you have to cross a line. It's a moral line, ingrained deeply into your psyche. You aren't suppossed to kill yourself, right? There is someone you can't leave, right? There has to be something worth living for, right? It's when you can't answer these questions with anything other than 'No' that the line blurs and fades. I made my decision, after taking those pills, I had crossed the line, not seeing it as an obstacle. However, once you cross that line (like most proverbial lines) there is no going back to how things were before.


Before, I had to ask myself those questions. "Is there something worth living for?" "Is there someone I can't leave?" After, you don't need to ask yourself the questions. Because, you've done it before, crossed the line, made the decision, broken those lingering mental doubts as to whether you should do it. For example: the first time you decide to cut class, you waver back and forth. I shouldn't do this. You're aren't missing anything. What if someone catches me? I'll just be sneaky. After you've done it, it becomes easier the next time you think about doing it. Because, the line is no longer a barrier, it's a desolate relic of it's former impediment. Much like the Ancient Roman ruins, the line is there, neglected and decayed.


The next time things get difficult, hard, stressfull, complicated, or overwhelming the answer comes quickly. Just kill yourself. You've nothing standing in your way. No moral qualms or nagging doubts, just a solution to your problems.


So, why the long story about moral lines and past suicial behavior? Because, suicide is the back-up plan.


I can never seem to face any problems because, in the back of my mind, I believe that suicide is always an option. Which obviously, on some level, I know is not what you as a person are suppossed to think, but I do. So why deal with anything? Why limp along for a while being depressed when you know you are never going to be happy? Why delay the inevitable? Why put up with feeling this bad all the time?


Why indeed...

In the beginning...there was a rubber duckie...

Before the question is asked, the thing with rubber ducks...they are just so adorably cute and chubby, hence have always brought me joy. I forget when it started, but my predaliction for duckies is so well known to my friends, that I have been given an abundance of them as gifts. Accumulating ducks turned into what I now call : The Duckie Shrine, with a jumbo 'Buddah' duck dominating the scene.

I now find myself in the lowest emotional hole of my life with overwhelming stress bearing down on me. I need to tell my story (if only to the internet) so I can unload some of this burden and possibly organise my thoughts. As a diagnose-ee of "Major Depressive Disorder" I'll take any emotional boost I can to overcome this.

Even if it only comes in the form of  petite, yellow water fowl :-)