NOTE: This ended up much longer than I intended. Once I started typing, it all just kind of came pouring out, and I couldn't stop it. Sorry that it's an extremely long, rambling post.
Hello everyone. I suppose I'm just going to get my thoughts out here as coherently as I can manage.
It has become increasingly difficult for me to convince myself to get out of bed in the morning. I've often had this problem, off and on. As I said in my intro post, I've been severely depressed for years. Twice, I had to drop out of college because I was so depressed I literally couldn't bring myself to get out of bed or do anything productive. And I feel awful for that still - how much of my parents' money did I waste? How much debt did I give them?
And that's another thing - my parents have been amazingly supportive, and I love them for it, but I didn't suffer any consequences directly, other than difficulty in finding a job. They did. Other people, people I care about, suffer when I screw up. That just makes me feel even worse. I'm not worth the support for all the trouble I am. And I know, this seems like such a dumb thing to complain about, I know it does. I know that, objectively speaking, in general, my life is pretty good, and that, again, makes me feel even worse that I just can't cope with anything. I know my problems are meaningless, when I look at the myriad problems that so many others face...but knowing that just doesn't make them go away.
Speaking of difficulty in finding a job, when I finally succeeded at something - getting a decent job, moving out of my parents' house, a year later, I got fired and immediately everything else in my life went to hell. Not that I'm surprised - every time things start going well, it always comes crashing down. Because of that pattern, I can't enjoy anything anymore. If something good starts happening, I just wait with trouble in mind, knowing that it will inevitably crumble in my hands. And it always does. Sometimes it's my fault, sometimes it's out of my control, but it will always happen.
All of my relationships have ended horribly, whether they be romantic or with close friends. I could write an entire book about this, but the short version is I've constantly been abandoned, or cheated on, or taken advantage of, or emotionally abused, or whatever. None of my relationships have ever ended well, and the tumultuous nature of my relationships with others have created a host of abandonment and codependence, not to mention self esteem, issues that I have no hope of ever escaping.
I've never slept well. They say that sleep has a huge impact on mental health, and I believe it - you never realize how precious sleep is unless you aren't getting enough of it. Even when I was a little kid, I didn't sleep well. I was a very nervous and distraught child, and my earliest memories are very vivid ones of when I was 4 or 5. I remember, after the lights went out and I was supposed to go to sleep, I would start panicking, crying, and screaming. It got to the point where my parents had to install a lock on the outside of my door, not out of cruelty, but out of fear for my safety, since I would take to wandering the house to escape the imagined carnival of horrors happening in my room. I believe that that early fear of sleep never really left me. I had to sleep with the lights and TV on until I was 16, at which point I finally kicked my fear of the dark. My sleep patterns were already set, though, and it still takes me a long time to fall asleep as my brain works in overdrive, and even after I do fall asleep, I often have nightmares or sleep paralysis. I get a truly restful sleep maybe two or three times a year, tops.
I was raised in a very Christian household, but a few years ago, when I was about 20 or so, I started to seriously question those beliefs, and slowly, I became the relatively agnostic atheistic person I am today. The big problem there is that I took my religion very seriously, and it was, in fact, the mooring for my life, the foundation to which I clung to to give me a purpose. Without it, I'm lost, twisting in the wind with nothing to hold on to. But I don't feel I can return there and still be intellectually honest with myself. I feel as though I looked into the face of God and saw nothing, and the revelation only further spurred my downward spiral.
I can't cope with anything. Everything just kind of piles up until I inevitably have a nervous breakdown. I still think about things that have happened, like, a decade ago, and thinking about them sometimes still makes me cry as if it just happened yesterday. Whenever I encounter a new problem or a new disappointment, I just shut down. That's it, my day, or my week, is basically over. When I was employed, I called into work a lot, because if absolutely anything happens, I become a useless emotional wreck who can't do anything but curl up in a ball and beg life not to kick me too hard.
So, here I am, unemployed, unwanted by others, just wallowing in my own self-hatred. I just go from day to day, trying not to fuck anything up. I don't really feel like I have any purpose or reason to be here. That's one the worst parts, honestly - it's not even so much an emotional suicidal feeling so much as a cold, logical deduction. Yeah, I guess I could keep drifting along for another 50 years or so, if I'm lucky, but what would be the point? Nothing will ever improve. It never has. Every year has been worse than the one before it, for at least 10 years. Why would it suddenly get better? Why not just save myself all the wasted time and all the grief and just end it now? At least this way I'd only die with 25 years worth of regrets instead of 75. It just makes sense to just end it, get rid of this pain, and spare myself the trouble.
So that's where I am now - I'm pretty much convinced I should just finish myself off, I'm just drifting along out of cowardice and habit. But every day, I get a little less scared of death.
Thanks for reading, if you took the time to read all that.
Hello everyone. I suppose I'm just going to get my thoughts out here as coherently as I can manage.
It has become increasingly difficult for me to convince myself to get out of bed in the morning. I've often had this problem, off and on. As I said in my intro post, I've been severely depressed for years. Twice, I had to drop out of college because I was so depressed I literally couldn't bring myself to get out of bed or do anything productive. And I feel awful for that still - how much of my parents' money did I waste? How much debt did I give them?
And that's another thing - my parents have been amazingly supportive, and I love them for it, but I didn't suffer any consequences directly, other than difficulty in finding a job. They did. Other people, people I care about, suffer when I screw up. That just makes me feel even worse. I'm not worth the support for all the trouble I am. And I know, this seems like such a dumb thing to complain about, I know it does. I know that, objectively speaking, in general, my life is pretty good, and that, again, makes me feel even worse that I just can't cope with anything. I know my problems are meaningless, when I look at the myriad problems that so many others face...but knowing that just doesn't make them go away.
Speaking of difficulty in finding a job, when I finally succeeded at something - getting a decent job, moving out of my parents' house, a year later, I got fired and immediately everything else in my life went to hell. Not that I'm surprised - every time things start going well, it always comes crashing down. Because of that pattern, I can't enjoy anything anymore. If something good starts happening, I just wait with trouble in mind, knowing that it will inevitably crumble in my hands. And it always does. Sometimes it's my fault, sometimes it's out of my control, but it will always happen.
All of my relationships have ended horribly, whether they be romantic or with close friends. I could write an entire book about this, but the short version is I've constantly been abandoned, or cheated on, or taken advantage of, or emotionally abused, or whatever. None of my relationships have ever ended well, and the tumultuous nature of my relationships with others have created a host of abandonment and codependence, not to mention self esteem, issues that I have no hope of ever escaping.
I've never slept well. They say that sleep has a huge impact on mental health, and I believe it - you never realize how precious sleep is unless you aren't getting enough of it. Even when I was a little kid, I didn't sleep well. I was a very nervous and distraught child, and my earliest memories are very vivid ones of when I was 4 or 5. I remember, after the lights went out and I was supposed to go to sleep, I would start panicking, crying, and screaming. It got to the point where my parents had to install a lock on the outside of my door, not out of cruelty, but out of fear for my safety, since I would take to wandering the house to escape the imagined carnival of horrors happening in my room. I believe that that early fear of sleep never really left me. I had to sleep with the lights and TV on until I was 16, at which point I finally kicked my fear of the dark. My sleep patterns were already set, though, and it still takes me a long time to fall asleep as my brain works in overdrive, and even after I do fall asleep, I often have nightmares or sleep paralysis. I get a truly restful sleep maybe two or three times a year, tops.
I was raised in a very Christian household, but a few years ago, when I was about 20 or so, I started to seriously question those beliefs, and slowly, I became the relatively agnostic atheistic person I am today. The big problem there is that I took my religion very seriously, and it was, in fact, the mooring for my life, the foundation to which I clung to to give me a purpose. Without it, I'm lost, twisting in the wind with nothing to hold on to. But I don't feel I can return there and still be intellectually honest with myself. I feel as though I looked into the face of God and saw nothing, and the revelation only further spurred my downward spiral.
I can't cope with anything. Everything just kind of piles up until I inevitably have a nervous breakdown. I still think about things that have happened, like, a decade ago, and thinking about them sometimes still makes me cry as if it just happened yesterday. Whenever I encounter a new problem or a new disappointment, I just shut down. That's it, my day, or my week, is basically over. When I was employed, I called into work a lot, because if absolutely anything happens, I become a useless emotional wreck who can't do anything but curl up in a ball and beg life not to kick me too hard.
So, here I am, unemployed, unwanted by others, just wallowing in my own self-hatred. I just go from day to day, trying not to fuck anything up. I don't really feel like I have any purpose or reason to be here. That's one the worst parts, honestly - it's not even so much an emotional suicidal feeling so much as a cold, logical deduction. Yeah, I guess I could keep drifting along for another 50 years or so, if I'm lucky, but what would be the point? Nothing will ever improve. It never has. Every year has been worse than the one before it, for at least 10 years. Why would it suddenly get better? Why not just save myself all the wasted time and all the grief and just end it now? At least this way I'd only die with 25 years worth of regrets instead of 75. It just makes sense to just end it, get rid of this pain, and spare myself the trouble.
So that's where I am now - I'm pretty much convinced I should just finish myself off, I'm just drifting along out of cowardice and habit. But every day, I get a little less scared of death.
Thanks for reading, if you took the time to read all that.