Yesterday I posted my thoughts in the depths of a depressive episode.
I call them episodes because often they come and go. They can be triggered by anything. Yesterday was triggered by my husband going to work. He is working some night shifts so I was left alone in the house. Again. Alone in a town where I don't really have any friends.
Because I don't really have friends outside of the internet it can be rather crushing at times. The house your supposed to love and nurture becomes a prison. My only companions are my pets. They cannot talk back to me and they fail to understand the emotions they sense coming from me. To them this house is the happiest place in the world because the humans that love and feed them live there.
When you cannot even get a job at a fast food restaurant, you begin to question everything. I like to pretend there is a reason for my existence Even though I have posted about there being no higher power in the past, I still like to keep that illusion, that illusion that this hard time will pass and I will see why soon enough. I'm scared, alone and confused, stuck in a town I hate because here my husband has a very good job. I am thousands of miles and an ocean away from my own family and the only family my husband has is preparing to leave town in about a week's time.
I often don't feel entitled to my depression because when I look around me I have so much that so many other people would love to have. I have a roof over my head, a loving husband, clothes on my back, a well stocked pantry. What more could I ask for.
How about a friend?
How about one person I can talk too outside of my house. One person I could have a laugh with.
Modern society is a crushing place to live in. We are forever being further and further isolated from the community as a whole, social media is making us more and more narcissistic. We are moving further from our families, the demand for both mother and father in a family to have a career is growing and as we fill our lives with work and travel and things, we all seem to be a little more distant from one another, our bubbles growing that little bit more bigger.
I am not ashamed of yesterday's post. I don't see a reason to hide the subject of suicide from anyone. Mostly because those who do attempt or commit suicide want one thing. Someone to ask "Are you ok?" and then stick around for the answer. Or not take no as a suitable answer.
Suicide is a horrible thing to go through for anyone. But those who are in too much pain or have reached rock bottom are the ones that make it. The demon's that you want to carve out of your head can't be silenced or there just seems no other option.
I probably should be in hospital. I probably should be in the looney bin. But I know the out come of that. I will be doped up to the gills and nothing will really be done to address the issues that have caused these bouts of depression. They just fill you up with medication, which has been proven to be ineffective in a number of patients, if not addictive. Here's a pill ... you'll be right ... off you go ...
Have you ever wondered why so many people who fail try again? Because our society isn't set up to deal with them. Our society is set up to feed pharmaceutical companies that make money from selling a pill. It is not set up to correct the real issues behind suicide.
Like the crushing loneliness of living in a town in the middle of a desert. I can feel my life force being sucked out every day. I crave to make something grow in the ground. I love to grow vegetables and fruit and my own food. But the dirt here is too dry, too poor. There is barely any rain. The heat in summer is intense and my plants just wither and die. And each summer I spend here I wither and die a bit more as I feel my own soul being parched not by the climate but by the shackles of money.
Me and my husband would not live in this town but for money. And each day a part of me dies because of it.
Yesterday I wrote a raw post about the thoughts that go through the mind of someone who is deep in the darkness of depression. I showed you a glimpse of what some of the thought processes might be in someone who is struggling with the question of "why am I alive?" or perhaps "What point is there for me to be alive?" I do not believe this should be hidden away. Anyone who is this far into the darkness needs help. They need someone to be their light. I'm not talking about a religion here or some other BS like that. They just need someone to treat them like a human and show them that they matter.
But you might not see someone who is that far gone until it is too late. If they are like me, they will be pretty good at hiding it. I wait until I am alone before I cry. I wait until I am alone before I howl into the air with agony. I wait until I am sure there is no one to hear me to take off the mask.
Why don't I take my own advise? Why don't I let someone in.
I have tried to let others in before but it quickly becomes about them. My husband thinks that it is all his fault. He gets upset and depressed himself because he thinks he is the one causing all this. It is so hard to talk to someone when they so easily descend into their own abyss and don't really listen to what you have to say. How can I solve the problem at hand when my husband won't even listen to the words I have to say?
I left my family in another country because they did this too. I have been to therapist after therapist seeking an answer. None of them really understand. They think a text book is enough to give them knowledge of what I struggle with each day. They are sadly mistaken.
So at the end of it all I am left with a life that has been pounded into sand, a life that will be meaningless after I die. Sure my children will remember me for their life time and my grand children but then I will just be another nameless creature, a tiny blip in the history of the universe. A whisper in the wind.
It is at times like this I think of a story my grand father told me. About how his best friend committed suicide. His best friend was like me, in mental anguish every second of every day. He took his life to end it all. I can't help but think ... one day that will be me. That will be my conclusion to life. One day the pain will get too much and I will achieve what I pray for everyday. The end to a pointless existence.
One day I know the demons will win.
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