Lost

This is the first time I’ve posted on this site, having discovered it only a few days ago.  Well, posting for myself, anyway, because I’ve actually given shout outs to a couple of other people that I hoped could take the words to heart.  But I continue to wear my mask, even here, in the presence of those who’d likely accept me without it.  But, truth be told, I wear it around friends and family that I’d gleefully step in front of a bullet for, so it’s not entirely surprising to me.

I’ve felt the urgings of suicide for the better part of the last 25 years, have made multiple attempts, and have been hospitalized a number of times.  The entirety of the summer of 2010 was spent in and out of psych wards.  Of the 3 friends who visited me (twice during that frame), only one of them is still speaking to me-  I pushed away the other two.  On one hand, it might’ve been for the best, but I’m really particular about the people I call “friend” and losing 2 such people felt like cutting my own arm off with a butter knife.

I’ve watched my financial picture drop into the abyss over the past 5 years and have lost literally everything twice because of a combination of a gambling addiction and supremely bad choices.  I feel like an idiot for having gotten myself where I am…

The last week, even though I have worked toward turning things somewhat around, I’ve had a corner of my mind obsessing over the thoughts of death and suicide and that’s most of the reason why I’m here, in the middle of the night, pouring out my despair on a computer.  4 years ago, I was hoping I would die because of my choices.  18 years before that, I only wanted to punish myself because someone nearly died as a result of my inaction.  Every day since, I’ve not found any real worth in myself, despite the assurances of others that my life is worthwhile.  If I could give up my life to another less fortunate person, I would.  But just because I’m living it does not mean that it’s good or that I view it as worthwhile.  It doesn’t help that I’ve either pushed or kept people away from this side of me… and I’m ashamed because it means that, on some level, I don’t trust people that I’d willingly lay down my life for- and that’s wrong to me on so many levels.

I don’t know where I’m going, what I want, or even what tomorrow is going to bring.  I don’t know what to do… and I’m not really sure how to turn to people for help.