My mother’s schizo finally did it, she can’t work anymore, still doesn’t admit she needs treatment, I don’t know if she’s taking her meds but knowing her it’s the last thing she’ll do, it’s way too nice to make my life even more of a hell. I can’t earn more, I can’t get a better job, or I can’t get a second job, whether she accepts it or not. Nobody understands me. I don’t, either. Why do I still care who’s gonna take care of her when I’m dead, I don’t know! I definitely don’t want to do anything for her anymore. Yet I still care like that.
Last week I felt ready to go. No big fear of what’s after death anymore. But suddenly something happened, and I was talking to someone important to me at the moment, but nevermind – the thing is I felt that I can’t yet, that it won’t be a good day to go after all, because hey, seems that maybe there’s hope and things will get better! Well, a day and a half, and nothing was left from hope, once again I realized how stupid I was. I regret not doing it on Friday like I planned to. Now either I have to wait until another Friday or just do it any day during this week, which is stressing me a lot more for some reason, perhaps it’s because I have a lot of work this week, and I won’t be able to leave any real money for her. Plus, she’ll care less when I won’t come back home on Friday, during the week she’ll be all “where did she go, she has work tomorrow!!!”
At times I feel like doing it at home, before going to sleep, don’t want to die in a hotel, like a stray dog I am… homeless… but I know I can’t, god knows what will she do when she sees my body and how long is she gonna keep it there. It hurts me so much.
Well, anyone who reads it, wish me luck, so I can finally die, in peace, and soon.
14 comments
This seems like a really tough situation and it sucks to have to live your life for someone else. Sometimes I have think about using a hotel room as well. I think being stressed from work is adding to your dilemma. If you are planning to die soon anyway, there is no need to make it even more miserable for the remaining days you have here. Who knows, you may even feel better once you have less on your plate. I wish I had more to say because I relate to your situation.
Thank you, those were kind words… I read your story and now I see how can you relate to it!
I can relate, my mother was schizo as well. But there isn’t really much to say.
A schizophrenic’s brain is basicly a shattered puzzle with its pieces everywhere. The apathy is the worst part. I feel like I can’t even move on some days.
Sorry your mother was schizo too, never a pleasant thing… although I must say that schizophrenia is not always the same, I met one lady who was schizo but completely different than my mother [who is paranoid schizo]/ The lady was incredibly nice, and she most definitely accepted treatment. She suffered a lot and I was really sad for her, unlike for my mother who seems to want all the harm.
Yes, confusing condition.
I am thinking if you really wanted to die you would put yourself out on the streets or get the first flight to palestine or egypt, or get a kamakazi pilot to fly over closed russian airspace
Don’t give me those “if you really wanted to die”, please. Okay? It’s not always so simple, if you read my story carefully you’d know I have other things to consider than only what do *I* want. Plus, everyone is different. Maybe you’d want to die on the streets, well, that’s okay, but I already have my way to die planned with everything I need for it.
Peace.
I tend to think that most suicidal people don’t really want to die. It’s just that we don’t have the means to deal with the endlessly agonizing bullshit surrounding us, and the only options are either suffering in futility, or skipping to the end. It’s a fucked up choice, because neither are really what we want. But at least in death there is an expectation of lack of further suffering… a permanent elimination of all that ails us.
A wise man once said… ^
Well it’s all just words. Most people say “I want to die” instead of “I have to die” or “I want to end suffering by dying because I have no other way” or whatever really, but does it make any sense to point out stuff like that?
yes, actually, it does. It’s important to say what you actually mean, or you’ll send the wrong message. Sending the wrong messages makes it harder to figure out what the real problem is, and how to fix it.
Alright, but who said I came here expecting anyone to figure out my problem or tell me how to fix it? I just wrote a story and I made an attempt to make it as short as possible because most people don’t like long stories, especially that nobody knows me here. Writing long sentences that would make it easier to figure out my problems and how to fix it would be utterly pointless, wouldn’t it. Who here wants to do that? Plus, I didn’t even write that I want to die, and yet I got a comment from a person telling me to go die on the street if I want to die, and I was stupid enough to reply. BAAAH. Futile discussion/end
Other people’s expectations are their own responsibility. I tend to find that people who form inappropriate expectations generate problems, for both themselves and others. The point of my original comment was to counter the nitpicking and almost taunting assertion that “if you really wanted to die, you’d go die.”
Obviously (or perhaps not), most of us don’t really want to die, or we wouldn’t be depressed or sad or angry or frustrated about it; we’d just go die.
It’s not that you want to die… it’s that people leap out of burning buildings when the flames become too hot. A graceful plummet to an abrupt ending is likely better than burning alive.
And no. Sometimes writing out everything as accurately as you can, is one of the most helpful things you can do for yourself. Striving to precisely articulate whatever is the problem, can help you become able to solve it (them)… which i tend to think is a better option, and one that most would indeed prefer, if it is available.
It wasn’t stupid to reply. Precise articulation and communicating with others who are unprepared to do so, can be extremely tedious and frustrating, even prohibitively so.