People can’t accept a world where people suffer so deeply (without relief) so they create this fake world where the suffering isn’t real. They equate the typical bad day as the same as having chronic depression. If they spend a day in bed and are able to rebound so should everyone else. It’s like comparing having a cold to asthma. People would laugh at the suggestion that people with asthma should walk it off like what you do with the common cold. Yet people are quick to pass out the typical get over it philosophy. People with chronic depression aren’t able to escape their bad days.
Being alone is a very miserable life. When you tell people that you are alone they never truly believe you. They always can justify it based on their own personal experience. If they have people in their lives they can count on then everyone must. That’s just not the case with me, at least not anymore. That person used to be my Mom but that ended in 2012 when she died.
Now I’m just floating into outer space holding onto hope that a rocket will come my way. Sadly there isn’t a light for a million miles away. When you have depression you wear people out. They take it personal or they deny that the disease even exists. If you are like me, you’ve moved (ran) from city to city trying to find yourself. You do this until you can’t run anymore. Then you are left with a lot of emptiness, misery and pain.
It’d be bad enough to be alone but to be surrounded day after day of misery gets old. I go weeks without seeing anyone, other than my therapist. I don’t talk to anyone regularly. A few messages here and there from facebook friends. That’s it.
I have said it before but I have become an afterthought. Someone that people think of occasionally. I went from seeing my family regularly to not at all. Everything changed after my Mom died. When I say I have no one, I mean it. I could die and the only person would notice would be my therapist. There isn’t anything more sad and tragic than that.
If you had to live in constant pain and agony for the rest of your life could you handle it? With very little to no relief? I bet most couldn’t last a week with the darkness that depressed people endure. It affects every aspect of your life. It sucks the joy and life out of everything. Not to mention it warps your mind and constantly lies to you. So not only do you have to battle the disease, you have to fight with the demons (the past) that it brings up. Mind, body and soul are all affected.
People will finally care when I’m dead. That’s the only time when people can show they care for people with mental illness. They wait until it’s too late. I’m not there yet but I’m closer than I have ever been and that scares me senseless. I don’t really want to die, I just want the pain to end. If all that remains in my life is misery why would I choose any other option than suicide. Those who kill themselves don’t make rash decisions. It’s not just something that appears out of thin air. If you could experience what they endured, up until the end, you would treat people with mental illness differently. This might be tough to read but it’s the truth.
So what do others like me need? Support, continued and interrupted. If someone gets hospitalized over a suicide attempt they aren’t cured of the symptoms even though they are released. It’s been six months since my last hospitalization and I’m still on shaky grounds. I’m on the verge of going back and am doing everything I can to hold it together in the hopes of seeing my nieces and nephew next week for my birthday. The last six months I have had a handful of good days, where I got out of the house.
A support system isn’t built overnight and that’s unfortunate for someone with none outside the mental health system. I don’t have time to wait. I’m constantly racing against the clock. One more crack in my self esteem could be the one to send me over the edge. When you make new connections they tend to be overwhelmed with how much care you need or they take it personal when you have to cancel hanging out. I long for the days to be the person not seen as my mental illness. I don’t want solutions. I just want someone to make the effort and show up consistently.
The one person I had like that basically gave up on me because of my mental illness. I had a lesbian aunt that was always there for me. No matter what I knew she was there. It’s not like I went to her for support but it was nice to know she was on my side. This was until my mental health couldn’t be controlled like my family wanted. So rather than be there for me she decided that I was too much to handle by deleting and blocking me on Facebook. She didn’t say a word. Not even when I sent her an email questioning it. I was just ignored.
One side of the family doesn’t accept me because I’m queer and the other doesn’t because I have mental illness. The latter think I can live differently. That I should just get a job like everyone else and forget about my troubles. To give you an idea the kind of family I have I will tell you about the time I had a broke leg. I was around ten years old and was the monkey in the middle. I got tangled up and hurt my leg. I could barely walk and no one would believe me that something was wrong with my leg. They made me walk on it. It wasn’t until the next day that a doctor confirmed that my leg had been broken. I have had my loved ones do this all my life. No one believes me when I’m in pain. They have forced me to walk on a broken leg all my life. Whenever I fall I just go into a deeper downward spiral. For most of my live I have based my choices around what everyone else does. Trying to be a normal functioning member of society has led me to be alone in my forties. I can’t do it anymore. No one is left to support me. Now that I’m in my forties I’m seen as a lost cause. No one is listening to me.
I’m screaming at the top of my lungs to the few connections I have but because none of them are in real life it goes on deaf ears. I just don’t want the life I currently have and don’t see any relief anytime soon. I’m looking at another good year of waiting for a SSI court decision. I don’t have a car and very little money. With my heart issues lately I can’t even walk that far lately. So I’m stuck in my isolation. That’s the last thing I need right now but I don’t have any other choices right now.
Another year in this misery is daunting. I’m trying to hold on the best I can but it feels like I’m failing. I just wish the people in my life would believe me, take me serious. Instead of putting me in the faking it category or being too much to handle. A person doesn’t suffer this long out of choice.