In light of 2 high-profile celebrity deaths this past week, my mind has been a non-stop flow of jumbled thoughts and emotions. Not that these celebrities specifically affected me deeply, but just the emotions that have been stirred up by suicide, and the uproar of the general public. So many people “talking” about how they wished people had reached out to them, if they had only said something, etc… blah blah blah, yada yada yada.
BULLSHIT. That is all utter and complete bullshit.
I posted this on my Facebook account today:
I’ve refrained from posting anything this past week about Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain until now. I’ve been thinking, and stewing, reading the patronizing posts about the Suicide Hotline. People talking about “just reach out”, or being open about depression, anxiety, etc… Well, I have been open about it and I’ve been lectured and chastised about being open about it by people I care about. On top of that, I’ve read about how “selfish” suicide is… Well, you know what, I have one thing left to say about judgemental people who have an opinion on OTHER people’s pain and illness. FUCK YOU. Until you have walked a mile or 500 in the shoes of someone who has contemplated or attempted suicide, keep your fucking opinions to yourself. Maybe if you hadn’t been so judgemental, opinionated, close-minded, etc… maybe, just maybe, you might have made a difference in someone’s life. Believe me, I’ve reached out to people for the simplest (yet really important to me) things and been completely ignored, and it was incredibly hurtful. So if someone reaches out in a time of their need or desperation, how are you going to know what the outcome will be if you ignore them or judge them? Drop the shallow rhetoric and put your money where your mouth is.
Everybody talks a good, slick talk about being there for friends and family in need, but how many really follow through? How many have a clue what someone they know is going through if they don’t bother to pay even a little bit of attention? How many ignore someone who is reaching out, in there own way, because it’s annoying, or they don’t have time, or they simply don’t feel like it? More often than not, the person who is ignored will not reach out to that person again, if at all. Then what? Will you go to their funeral? Will you think, wow, was there something could have said or done? Or… man if I’d just responded to that text, if I had just asked them how they were or said hi…
Now, let’s address the assholes who think “thinking positively” “make your own happiness” is the cure for all mental illness.
Do you know the difference between depression and clinical depression? Let me enlighten you via the Mayo Clinic (because they had the most plain English definition for anyone who has comprehension issues): Depression ranges in seriousness from mild, temporary episodes of sadness to severe, persistent depression. Clinical Depression is the more-severe form of depression, also known as major depression or major depressive disorder. It isn’t the same as depression caused by a loss, such as the death of a loved one, or a medical condition, such as a thyroid disorder.
Signs and symptoms of clinical depression may include:
- Feelings of sadness, tearfulness, emptiness or hopelessness
- Angry outbursts, irritability or frustration, even over small matters
- Loss of interest or pleasure in most or all normal activities, such as sex, hobbies or sports
- Sleep disturbances, including insomnia or sleeping too much
- Tiredness and lack of energy, so even small tasks take extra effort
- Reduced appetite and weight loss or increased cravings for food and weight gain
- Anxiety, agitation or restlessness
- Slowed thinking, speaking or body movements
- Feelings of worthlessness or guilt, fixating on past failures or self-blame
- Trouble thinking, concentrating, making decisions and remembering things
- Frequent or recurrent thoughts of death, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts or suicide
- Unexplained physical problems, such as back pain or headaches
Symptoms are usually severe enough to cause noticeable problems in relationships with others or in day-to-day activities, such as work, school or social activities.
Clinical depression can affect people of any age, including children. However, clinical depression symptoms, even if severe, usually improve with psychological counseling, antidepressant medications or a combination of the two.
Does this shit sound like it can be cured by thinking positively?
NO Mary Poppins, it doesn’t.
Guess which form of depression I have been diagnosed with…
So here’s the thing, there is hardly a day that goes by, in the last 20 years, where the thought of death hasn’t crossed my mind. Not just any death. MY own death. I think about dying A LOT. Suicide, hit by a bus, fatal illness… doesn’t matter. The thought is never far from my mind. I’ve written a goodbye note 100 times. And deleted it 100 times.
I remember the first time the thought of suicide crossed my mind. My fiancé had broken up with me. Told me he couldn’t give me what I wanted. I stood there numbly as he left. I didn’t cry. I didn’t cry for days. But one day I grabbed my bottle of vanilla Smirnoff, a couple bottles of something, I think Motrin and Vicodin left over from a root canal and I walked down to the lake my apartment was on and sat on a dock getting drunk. Thinking. Crying, finally. Wanting to die. Wanting my life to be over because I couldn’t bear the pain of shitty job, of losing him, of probably having to move back home…
Someone came and sat with me that night. I have no idea who she was. I don’t remember her name, if I ever knew it or what she looked like. We just sat quietly for what seemed like hours. We watched the sun go down that cool September evening, and then quietly we stood up and walked back to my apartment. She walked next to me, neither of us saying a word. She walked away as I walked inside and shut the door. I never saw her again.
The thing is, I actually called a friend that day, reached out for help. When she answered the phone she yelled at me because she was trying to get her kid to sleep and didn’t have time to listen to me whine about “him”. Her actual words. THAT was what pushed me over the edge…
Since then, I have struggled almost every day to survive day after day. Living eith the thoughts of being a complete failure at life. Especially the last 5 years. When my father passed away, I wished it was me. I still do. Why? Because to me, the rest of my life is an epic failure. Single, no kids, at my age. My living arrangements, well, I’m not even going to go there. Out of work for 8 months, still no job. Lots of phone calls and interviews, but still no job. The man I was falling madly in love with felt no connection for me. Jerked around for years by another… I don’t really believe in love anymore, anyway. I don’t know why I let it get to me. I’ve heard it all. I could fall in love with you. Any man would be lucky to be loved by you. I’ve loved you since high school. Or they are married. It’s so overwhelming, then they run. I don’t believe any of it anymore. I think I have an inherent flaw, a love repellent if you will, that makes a true love connection to me impossible. Or I’m just too fat, too ugly, too poor, too dumb, too open, too adventurous, etc… that turns guys off. Or Karma really has it out for me because I must have really screwed the pooch in another life and I’m still paying for it. *shrugs Whatever it is, I just don’t give a flying fig. I’m too old for this shit.
Oh, and I’m in debt up to my eyeballs with no light at the end of the tunnel, no thanks to student loans and a shady school. I’ve completely lost faith in religion, even in God Himself. I pray and beg for a break, and none comes, just more pain and heartache. I live Murphy’s Law. I had cancer. Melanoma. I have a mini-heart attack every time a new mole shows up. Will it be cancerous? Will I have to have something biopsied, removed? Chemo? Radiation? What about the ones I can’t see? You’re asking, why should I care of I want to die. Well, that’s a GREAT question. I don’t know. No clue. Ingrained fear of cancer, maybe?
Oh, I know I’ve mentioned my A.D.D. Yeah, that’s a real winner to have right there. Can’t concentrate, can’t focus, can’t get shit done, oh shiny!!!, I forget the simplest things, walk into a room for something, what did I need? Huh, oh, whatever, walk out. 5 minutes later, where the fuck did I leave… my phone, my keys, my glasses, etc… Did I mention I have a minor heart condition to top it all off? My life is a fucking mess and I don’t know how to climb out of this cluster anymore.
So yeah, every day I contemplate not existing anymore. OH. MY. GOD.
I said it. You read it. Now what?
Well, something keeps me tethered to this Godforsaken planet. Right now the only thing that keeps me going are my 3 year old nephews. They are my joy, my light, my life. The only thing I live for these days.
Otherwise, maybe I am just a failure at ending it all. Like I am a failure at every other aspect of my life. Maybe I am just a coward. Maybe, just maybe there is a higher power that keeps me from going full-throttle. I don’t know what it is. I do know it’s a fine line between here and the here-after.
So does all this make me less of a human being? Like I don’t deserve some joy, happiness, good luck… Or that I am selfish? Let me tell you something, if one little thing would/could/should happen in my favor, I guarantee it would tip the scales in the here column, maybe roll me further away from that fine line… But hope is a fleeting thing. Something I have none left of.
Every day I wake up and go on with my day. I look for things to distract my dark thoughts. I keep myself busy, reading, watching a good movie, cleaning, organizing stuff… But those thoughts creep back when I least expect it. Would anyone miss me? Would it make a difference? How about if I could pull an “It’s a Wonderful Life”? To have never existed at all… perfect solution!
Definition of hope
1 : to cherish a desire with anticipation : to want something to happen or be true
- hopes for a promotion
- hoping for the best
- I hope so.
2 archaic : trust
1 : to desire with expectation of obtainment or fulfillment
- I hope she remembers.
- hopes to be invited
2 : to expect with confidence : trust
- Your mother is doing well, I hope.