My Seasons in the Abyss part 2

Discussion in 'Rants, Musings and Ideas' started by Shattered Soldier, Feb 16, 2010.

  1. Shattered Soldier

    Shattered Soldier Well-Known Member

    There was a time in my life when my medications were working, where every little thing in my life seemed to be worthwhile. I woke up every morning and thought, "thank god I'm not trapped in that hell anymore". In reality, I never thought it would strike again, where I would have to sit here thoughtless, empty, trying to keep the pain and humiliation of just living from boiling over and consuming me. I used to live on my own. I used to wake up next to somebody that I loved and who loved me even more. I used to think back on my days of major depression with a calm sense of finality, that I would ever have to be there ever again as long as the things in my life kept working the way they were. I had exotic fish. I used to draw. I used to play guitar until I broke into a sweat. I used to scream, "God hates us all!" and know it was only an inside joke between us. Every small task was creative and meaningful, whether it was redecorating my room, or just doing the dishes in the morning. I had few close friends and didn't care, the one close friend I had meant the world to me. Even after I left her, the pink cloud seemed to never end.

    Then, after a good four or five years, the side effects from the medications became intolerable. The headaches, the anxiety, the jaw pain, my constantly racing heart. I began to fear death every ten minutes of the day. Strokes, heart attacks, even disappearing out of all existence became a reality. I began to drink myself down for relief. Then the drinking came night after night. I still considered myself lucky, at least I wasn't depressed again. I would go to bars with my friends and have a few drinks to socialize, but my panic attacks and fear of death began to follow me. I began to spend more time drinking than socializing. I soon found myself celebrating with expensive bottles of absinthe, endless glasses of Shiraz, and straight tequila from the bottle when nobody wanted to go out. When I did go out, I would come home from the bar and drink more, drink until I passed out, it was the only way for me to get rid of my fear. But the fear became greater, and my polluted mind began to think thoughts of jealousy, rejection, and self harm. I spent all of June 2005 and some of July wearing sweatshirts to cover my arms. Just a few deep cuts along the veins on my inner arms that I wanted nobody to see, I remember having an every day ritual of taking sand paper to my skin to cover a botched pentagram that I had carved into my left arm after a night where the alcohol wouldn't ease the pain or knock me out. It didn't help that the initials of my latest rejection were somehow inscribed at the middle.

    Then the pills came, the sweet bliss of xanax. This is when people really began to worry. I would pass out in my backyard and wake up in the morning with a sunburn, late for work, and still out of my mind. At least the jaw pain was gone for a while, and at least I didn't have to fear dying. Then I began hearing stories from my friends, about myself the night before, that I didn't remember happening. These stories of last night soon became stories of me in work. Yes, I was blacking out at my job! My acquaintances became more and more distant, and I soon started having problems with them. But how could I be blamed? I was only doing what it took to manage my current symptoms. Besides, summer was almost over, and I would be starting nursing school soon, I would quit a week before school started, everything would be ok, and I would make new friends.

    Well, my mind had other plans. At the end of the summer I put everything down, and spent a week not being able to sleep. I was in trouble at work for some phone calls I made to them during a drinking/xanax binge that I still don't quite remember. Night after night, sleep would not come. I began hallucinating, having paranoid thoughts, and ended up calling 911 on myself two days before school started. In the hospital I was manic and annoying, very energetic, my thoughts came with ease. Little did I know that this was my brain's last hurrah, its final fireworks display. The depression that followed the summer of 2005 was unbearable, and still is. I never wanted to be in this place again but here I am. I wake up every day to a pain that I used to be grateful for not having. Its been around for almost five years and there is no end in sight. The antidepressants just don't work anymore. The loneliness, resentment, jealousy, and rejection have solidified in me. Until last summer, my life was just one long drawn out suicide, seeing how many things I could do to my mind and body before it would all end. Almost five years in the abyss and I still feel this way. Now left with only a shell of a person to work with, wanting improvement for somebody who I hate and resent so bad.

    This post has gotten longer than I intended it to be so I'll end it here.

  2. WildCherry

    WildCherry Staff Member ADMIN

    Just wanted you to know I read your post. :hug: Here if you need anything, you can drop me a PM anytime. Hope we can help you get through this.