End-game

To be a candle, with a wick almost burned down, the wax melted so far down there is no relighting it- that’s how I see every person’s existence- as a candle with varying amounts of “wax” left, keeping them burning. Elton John was brilliant for using this when Diana perished, what seems like eons ago.

I am not being dramatic when I say I want to die.  I want to end my life. I’ve lived for nearly 3 decades now, each decade worse than the last. My first decade and most of my second had me tied into an impoverished family whose only abundance in life happened to be in abuse.  Between my mother being emotionally abusive, my father being physically abusive, and my brother and later my step-father being sexually abusive, I have always been the victim.  For the better half of my life the only things I knew how to do involved being quiet, doing what others told me to do, and being afraid.

It is only as I write this that I realize just how much those three things that were forced on me have negatively effected me and just how much they have contributed to my current state of affairs.  Being subjected to what I went through in conjunction with being poor, I guess it’s only natural that I never got to see a professional who was able to assist me with moving beyond this.

My whole life I searched for an answer to why it happened to me; how could I stop letting it effect me, how do I just move on? How do I forgive and forget?  I think it says volumes about the type of world we live in where people like me are slapped with labels and never really given the chance to succeed.

Here’s what I’ve accomplished in my life: graduated high school (took me 2 extra years), graduated college with a 2 year degree (took me 8 years to obtain it), held a job since I was 15.

Based on the above, I find that I am most certainly not the cure for cancer.  I’m not important to anyone. Sure, people care about me- but they don’t need me or want me around for anything.  Most of my friends are gone; they decided I was “too much” to “deal” with.  And, I guess you could say, they’re right.

From 2003, when I moved out of my mother’s house, until 2008, my life gradually improved. I had a car, a boyfriend, plenty of friends, a steady job, and most importantly I had help paying for school.

Since 2008 my life has gradually gotten worse instead of better. I have no car, I have no friends, no help with school, my boyfriend and I are almost to the breaking up point (boy will he be surprised if I jump ship early- though I certainly don’t want to hurt him anymore than I already have), I have experienced the death of 4 family members (3 grandparents and a cousin), lost my job and was out of work for 6 months, the job I have currently pays me about 50% less than what I was making, I’ve been hospitalized twice due to psychosis (more on that later), … I could keep going, but why bother?  What I’ve written in this paragraph I feel is more than enough proof of what direction things are (and will continue to keep) going.

I kept bouncing back but after a while, after each loss, my bounces became less and less. Imagine starting at 0, each good thing that happens in your life that you’ve worked hard for you get a point. Every major bad thing that happens in your life, you lose a point.  I had amassed like 10 points by the time I was 19.  In the 9 years since, I’ve lost on average 2 points or more a year.  So atm I’m at about -9.

Now, coming full circle, it just seems quite evident that I don’t belong here and I never did.  I’d rather not be conscious anymore; what is the purpose of climbing up stairs your whole life just to get knocked down them again?

What it comes down to is this: I’m tired. I’m tired of trying. I’m tired of apologizing. I’m tired of trying to get help. I’m tired of trying to explain myself. I’m tired of no one being able to connect with me. I’m tired of being afraid that I am a bad person. I’m tired of being afraid that the reason no one can connect with me is that they simply do not want to.  I’m tired of helping other people out, only to need help in return and being treated like garbage when I ASK for help. I’m tired of calling suicide prevention hotlines and them giving me resources but not really listening to what I am saying.  I’m tired of loss.  I’m tired of bad news, war, and the general ill-will that seems to be prevailent in the society I am a part of.

I always thought that things had to be fair; that there was always a reason for everything happening. If I could figure out why it was happening, then I could stop what was happening from hurting me so much. I always thought that if you were open and honest that people would treat you with respect.  I’m so fucking intelligent, right?  That’s what I’ve heard all these years.  Here’s what my intelligence is telling me: Every moment I spend awake I am contributing to my misery- I have tried support forums, I’ve tried therapy, I’ve tried research, I’ve taken college courses, I’ve done absolutely everything in my power to make myself better.  Nothing helps.  I’m poor, I’m overweight, I have nothing worthwhile to give to anyone, I have nothing worthwhile to say anymore. I want to die.  I am not selfish, I am not self-absorbed, I am not mean, I am not a bad person. Hakuna Matata- I’ll be better off dead.