As I write this at 3am in the morning I am wondering something… will I ever be free from my pain, struggles, depression, etc. I thought having my own place would be a cure and I couldn’t be more wrong. Maybe this time will be different and I sure hope that is true because I’m getting tired of cycling through this kind of suffering. I don’t want the pain any more. I wish I could rip it out like an unwanted organ.
I know what others will say. That this too will pass and it will but not for long. I can cut out the people who hurt me (my father) and the pain is still there. I want the pain gone too. It keeps repeating me like a constant heartburn. No amount of tums will cure this acid reflux.
Often times I feel like the worlds left me behind. People keep spinning past me and I’m struggling to keep up. It all becomes a blur and I get lost in the shuffle. I’m sure people are tired of my woe is me routine. Trust me I know that I am but these are my feelings. Depression is something that can’t be controlled. Once the cycle starts you must finish the rotation. It’s like getting on the ferris wheel and wanting to get off once your car takes off. You have to wait until the ride is done to get off. I mean you could jump off but that won’t be pretty.
I hate the suffering. Just when I think I’m getting through the deepest part of this depression cycle I’m taken to even lower point. I went outside for a little bit and it felt good but that moment was fleeting. I feel so very alone.
Sure I’m glad to have my own place but this bout of depression has forced me to face the hard reality, that there is no cure for depression. Living with depression is something that I will have to deal with for the rest of my life. It’s a burden that I don’t want to bear anymore but what choice do I have. I wish I could make people understand what it’s like to suffer from depression. Words don’t come close to describing the reality. I might as well say blah, blah, blah.
I just want to be free and I wonder if that’s just not meant to be. I know that I don’t deserve the suffering, no one does. That realization doesn’t do anything to calm the storm. I just hate feeling like I’m not in control especially when I’m drinking Pepsi again. I feel like I’m slipping to my old ways and I’m fighting to hold on. I can already start to notice my mobility to suffer. My need to numb is more severe than the physical pain. Why else would I put my body back through this? So this just adds to my depression and misery.
How can you in one moment give in to your urges while fighting them at the same time? I’m drinking Pepsi like crazy but I’m still brushing my teeth every day. I’m even showering regularly but I still feel god awful. It just doesn’t feel like enough, at least not enough to numb it all out. The Pepsi isn’t cutting it, though it does taste delicious but it does in my body.
So this living on my own hasn’t gone as I thought it would and I’m struggling with living alone. I’m here in my apartment alone with my thoughts and it’s scary. Now you might not can understand this. How could he not be happy? If you are questioning my logic then you probably don’t have a mental illness. That is the conundrum of mental illness. You get trapped in the illogical. That’s where I’m at currently. I want to get out of this mess that is my mind. It’s been over a week and I’m still suffering a great deal. I was hoping to have some relief by now. I thought because I was aware of the trigger my symptoms would have lessened but that’s not the case.
My grandmother ripped open this wound and it’s oozing poisonous pus. I feel wide open, exposed. I’m trying to stuff as much gauze in that gaping wound as I can but nothing is stopping the hemorrhaging of blood. Now that’s probably a graphic illustration that you wish you hadn’t been given but imagine being me right now. That’s what I’m enduring. I gotta wait for the poison to run dry and then maybe I can move on. Right now I’m not so sure…