‘What do YOU have to be so miserable about?’

Do you ever wonder whether every human being has only one soulmate? What happens if you meet that person at the wrong time, in the wrong mental state, and you hurt him so irrevocably there is no way you will be forgiven?

My boyfriend, who was the only positive aspect of the last few years of my life, has left me, and there is no chance of him returning. I understand why he is gone. I acknowledge that I am tiresome, and that it is nearly impossible to love someone who loathes herself and lives in a constant state of misery. I acknowledge that I did not live up to the fantasy version of myself that he had in his head. On one hand, I wish him true health and happiness, which I am sure he can attain away from me. On the other hand, because he was the only part of my life that brought me joy, that convinced me to remain tethered to this existence, I desperately want him back. What happens now that this thread has been cut?

He always used to ask me why I was so miserable, what I possibly had to be so upset about, when there are people around the world who are truly suffering. My friends and family often ask the same thing, as if this is some unique inquiry, as if it is a question I have not asked myself. I don’t know why i feel this way. Objectively, I should feel pleased. I am told I am exceptionally intelligent, attractive, and accomplished. So why is death the first thing I fantasize about when I awaken in the morning, and why is it the last thing I think about when I drift off? Why, on the days I can actually get out of bed, do I think about throwing myself into traffic every time I cross a street? I cannot even chop vegetables for dinner without wondering how deep I would have to drive the knife into my groin to do any real damage, and how long it would take me to bleed out.

I have no support system. My family cannot understand the way I feel, and when I attempt to confide in them, they betray me by deriding me, or at best, undermining my feelings. The few friends I have, insist I am doing this to myself, that I could simply snap out of this mentality if I truly wished to do so; it is not that I ‘cannot’ feel better, but that I ‘will not’ choose to feel better. My boyfriend, whom I mistreated so badly despite the love I felt for him, is gone. I attempted therapy again recently, and the therapist was so overwhelmed by what I told him during our initial visit he confessed he was uncertain whether he could even help me.

I am in terrible debt, and am stuck in a profession that has destroyed the way my mind functions and has killed off every vestige of creativity and happiness within me. I have never had any skill at making friends, and additionally have no hope of meeting someone else for whom I will feel the love and admiration I felt for my boyfriend, particularly since I am so difficult to handle. (Furthermore, I don’t want, and have never wanted, a relationship just for the sake of being in one. The connexion I shared with him was irreplaceable.) Every day is more painful than the previous one, and I spend most of my time in bed, weeping. Whatever feelings society may have about suicide, I am sure most would agree that what I am living is not a life. I can think of no reasons for delaying the inevitable, at this point.

I’ve got about 12000 mg of budeprion XL saved up, and am contemplating whether this might be an effective, albeit painful, way to end things. Is this likely to do the job? Might some diazepam make the experience less excruciating?