hey all.. been dealing with grief for a while now and i’m failing. i don’t even know how long the process is supposed to take. i suppose it’s different for everyone. but i can’t help thinking that some people get to this point and don’t feel like this. i feel like i’m getting worse, not better. i no longer function. i don’t even know where my shoes are i haven’t been out of the house in so long. i’ve just slowly broken down into this mess. i don’t talk to people, i don’t go anywhere. the pain is just not lessening. i typed in suicide into a search engine when i first started thinking about it and got that ‘read this first’ page. and it says the reason people do it is because the pain becomes greater than the resources for coping with pain. well that certainly feels like it. so why haven’t i done it yet? i don’t know. maybe there is a part of me deep down that doesn’t want to die. i wish i could be more aware of that part and at least feel it. or maybe i’m just a chicken. trapped in my own life because want to end it but can’t bring myself to.
i’m a mess. i’m not even a coherent enough mess to seek any kind of help. i recognize that i probably need it but i just can’t imagine in my head how it will help. there is no solving death. you can’t fix it or reverse it or make it go away or make it different. i just can’t hurt this way any more. if i felt at least a little respite i would try. but i wake up every day alone knowing that i had such happiness, such requited happiness and it was taken away from me. and there were so many things i could have done that day to make things different. just not gotten out of the car. not let her drive away. run after her. gotten sick. stayed in bed. anything. so many things i could have done to make the day different. oh god help me.
i just want to talk to someone. i want to cry at someone. people in my life have gradually slipped away. i guess it becomes too much to deal with so much misery that doesn’t get better. they have their lives and they are happy and they don’t see why i can’t just make myself happy. and i suppose that’s true. couldn’t i just force myself not to be broken anymore? then why can’t i? i just want to talk to someone that i can openly say i can’t deal anymore and i wish i was dead. i want to die. i don’t want to live anymore. and cry and have it be okay. but no-one ever wants to just listen. they hear the words i’m going to kill myself and freak out and call someone and palm you off to someone who can ‘fix’ you. i could be pumped full of drugs i guess. it isn’t going to change what’s happened. i took anti-depressants for a while and they didn’t seem to help at all. i didn’t feel any difference between not being on them to being on them to not being on them again. and i don’t want them. for what? can pills bring back people from the dead?
i just don’t want to be here anymore. i feel no joy in life. no joy in any day. i pray for evening from morning and my only solace is black, dreamless sleep and the micro second as i’m waking up that i sometimes don’t realize what has happened. one micro second of hope, of relief, of something. and then the pain again. it crushes me. i feel it like dead weight on my chest. i have no idea how i’ve not had a heart attack yet the constant tightness i feel in my chest. and this place is for people like me right? i mean, isn’t everyone here either feeling like me or wanting to help people like that? i just want to get on the phone and cry at someone. i want someone to just listen to me cry and for that to be okay. i want to be lied to. i want someone to tell me things will be okay and i want to believe it.
stopping writing now. i have a headache. and i’m kind of hoping that that wasn’t too nonsensical of a rant.