I’m so tired.
I want to go to sleep and not wake up.
I take excessive amounts of sleeping pills just to escape reality. When I don’t have anything to help me sleep, I suffer from severe insomnia.
I can’t stop thinking about what’s happened in the last few years. It constantly rewinds and replays in my head. And since the punishment will be for a lifetime, there will be no relief – ever. How can I possibly make any sense out of this? No relief – ever? Why live? Why go on?
I’m numb.
I look in the mirror and I don’t recognize the reflection. It’s like I’m looking at a stranger. It’s surreal and scary.
Sometimes I feel a detachment from reality. I’ll be walking in a store and it’s like I’m in a dream, like I’m not really there. It feels as if my feet aren’t even touching the floor. I can be in the middle of a crowded room and the voices and noises I hear don’t seem real. I clasp my hands together, squeeze them tight hoping that I may snap into a state of reality, but my mind won’t allow it.
When I do sleep, the dreams I have are lucid. Â Imagine that – my dreams feel real but my reality feels like a dream.
Sometimes, when I feel overwhelmed and start plunging into despair, I often envision me doing terrible things to myself… self-murder…suicide only after I endure great pain inflicted by me on me. Â When did I start to hate myself so much? I don’t feel like I’m such a bad person. In fact, I know I’m not. I’ve made mistakes, lots of them. But I’m not so bad. I love helping people. I love my children with all my heart. I mostly keep to myself. I don’t drink, do drugs…
And the crying….when it starts, it’s hard to stop. Â My crying spells cause terrible headaches that last for hours. Yeah, I’m a cryer. Even when I was little, the least little thing would bring me to tears. Â I wish I was tough. But I’m not. I’m insecure and hypersensitive.
I told my psychiatrist I feel like there’s a little girl inside of me. I’m 42 years old and I feel the little girl inside of me weeping, begging to be acknowledged and set free. But I can’t set her free. I can’t even recall big chunks of my childhood. It’s like I’ve subconsciously repressed that time period, tucked all those years in some hidden corner of my mind. Â My siblings will bring up things that happened when we were young and I’m the only one who doesn’t remember. Why? Â It’s almost as if I never had a childhood. I don’t understand this.
I don’t understand anything anymore. Truly, nothing makes sense. Why am I here? What is my purpose? Do I even have one?
2 comments
hi. i know how u feel. life is unreal aint it?
Life and the purpose of it is not always laid out clearly for us to understand. Only with the passage of time does the true purpose of any of this become clear. You might save somebody’s life tomorrow? The only way you will know that is if you’re around tomorrow, though. Having said all that, you have provided some clues as to what your purpose is.
First and foremost, you’re a mother – a parent. If your children are grown, then possibly your role as a parent seems diminished because you are not actively parenting as much as you used to. However, this gives you the chance to appreciate your children for the people they have become, and development of them, that, as any other parent will tell you, was and continues to be your primary purpose in life.
You said that you are taking lots of sleeping pills to escape reality, then go on to say that you’re in a fog most of the day. Obviously, you know that there is a connection between these two. You will need to wean yourself off the sleeping pills in order to function during the day. While you don’t drink, you can’t honestly say you do not “do drugs,” because that’s what the pills you’re taking are. So there is an explanation for this part of the picture.
Finally, there may be a depression issue going on that is causing the crying and hindering your ability to live a full, complete life. I know that so much of a sense of well being depends on good sleep patterns, a healthy diet and exercise. Without these, it’s almost impossible to function normally. I know that this is not the cure-all pill that we Americans have come to expect as the resolution to all of our problems, but it’s at least a start. I have been where you have been, and know that piling sleeping pills on top of a depressed mood is like is like trying to put a fire out with lighter fluid, it just doesn’t work. Please try to address the lifestyle habits and most, if not all, of the symptoms – the listless, foggy and purposeless existence – will solve themselves on their own.