The depression is hitting hard lately. I'm so tired and I had a thousand thoughts in my head before I sat down in front of this page and now they're all gone.
This pain is turning me into an animal. It's hard to even walk upright now, the physical pain and the palpable weight in my heart pull my chest to the earth like an anvil hanging off my sternum. I've cried at work three times in the past two days. Nobody noticed. I know my work has become positively shoddy. I feel like if anybody saw the sniveling, growling, barely-human creature I am when I'm alone, I would be sent to a mental institution immediately. I can barely string together a sentence even in front of people. I feel like the persona I put on in front of people is more and more incongruous with who I really am now. And who I really am is this bundle of pain so deep and so intense that it threatens to physically rip my heart out of my chest -- and I would welcome the day.
I'm tired of walking on eggshells. I'm tired of hearing the voices of the people who were supposed to love me in my head, calling me 'stupid.' Maybe I really am stupid, but that doesn't make the word hurt any less. I'm tired of looking in the mirror and not even recognising the person I see. I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of steeling myself for manipulation at work and I'm tired of steeling myself for manipulation at home. I'm tired of having to censor every thought. I'm tired of having to be on high alert to do damage control constantly.
I want to lay down and close my eyes and never wake up again.
They tell you things will get better. They tell you tomorrow's a new day. They tell you ten years down the road, you'll be glad you didn't kill yourself.
It's been twenty years.
Twenty.
Years.
I regret staying in the chair in 2009. I regret walking back to my dorm in 2017. I regret putting the knife back in 2020. I regret putting the knife back again last year.
I regret every single time I didn't take that chance to get out. Because it's been twenty years since depression first entered my head and things have NOT gotten better. I think twenty years is a more than reasonable amount of time to wait it out.
So what's my reason now, all-knowing ones? I've waited. The better life, the hope and fulfillment and peace that all of you PROMISED me would come has not. So why should I wait longer? It hasn't shown up in twenty years, it's not likely to show up now.
And I'm so worn out and I'm so tired of waiting for a better day that will never come.
2 comments:
Have you considered looking into anti-depressants? I hear your pain, so I wanted to let you know that getting on the right medication can work miracles for your mental health. I was exactly where you were a year ago, and since getting on the right meds, it's made a world of difference in my life. There just comes a point where you can't muscle through it anymore, where your thoughts become negative feedback loops that you physically can't escape from on your own, where starting your day in an emotional deficit is literally dooming you. Help is out there. It might be worth checking into.
I can't swallow pills. I tried to swallow a painkiller just yesterday and couldn't physically get it down (eventually had to just take children's Advil for my headache). Every antidepressant available here comes in pill form.
Counselling sometimes helps, but provincially-covered counselling is literally impossible to get into here. I've tried calling the number they give multiple times, during their 'open hours,' and they never, EVER pick up. I can't afford any private options -- not even online ones.
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