For the last month, I’ve been seriously considering ending my life for the first time in my life. I’ve been reading people’s stories here, and thought it might do some good to write down my thoughts, partially to sort them out in my own head, and partially because I don’t have the strength to voice these thoughts out loud to anyone.
I’ve been unhappy for most of my life. I’ve always been socially awkward and overweight, spent much of my childhood feeling out of place, and bullied, telling myself that things would get better when I was older and had control over my life. The few friendships and sources of joy I had always fell away over time, with the norm being loneliness and isolation. The few girlfriends I’ve had, I’ve leaned too heavily on them for emotionsal support, inevitably wearing them out and driving them off. I can’t blame them, it’s nobody else’s responsibility to deal with my problems when I’m utterly incapable of dealing with them myself.
But anyway, hating my physical appearance, my personality, feeling like I was at best being tolerated by those around me; I placed all of my self-worth into the one thing I was good at: academics. I was always bright, even if I wasn’t a very disciplined student, and it was the one thing in my life that felt positive. I felt like if I poured myself into that, I could make something out of myself, and find joy in that. Looking back now, I was really only chasing praise. When someone (parents, teachers, other students, etc) would comment on my ability, it felt like I was doing something of value, something I could be proud of. I’ve chased that feeling as far as I could, but it’s no substitute for actual self-worth.
Out of college, I entered a pretty prestigious PhD program. Even as I was applying, I felt this twinge of understanding that things weren’t quite right. I think part of me knew even then that I was looking for fulfillment in the wrong places. But I knew my family would be proud, I knew there was a certain level of pride to be had being recruited by these prestigious schools, and it had the promise of some sense of security and belonging. It wasn’t happiness, but it seemed like the best substitute I had available to me at the time.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, those reasons weren’t enough to actually carry me through a demanding graduate program, and I dropped out after a year. What followed was the darkest year of my life up until that point. I was alone, isolated in my crappy apartment with no sense of purpose and no reason to go outside except to eat. It felt like the one thing I had clung to for self-worth, my only remaining source of confidence and pride, had been shattered. It felt like my path to maybe one day find happiness had been derailed, and now I was just adrift. I still had two friends from my college years living in the same city as me, and they were the only ones that kept me even a little grounded, but things were still incredibly dark. I just had such little motivation to do anything. I couldn’t take out the trash (which piled up in my apartment) or get the bath faucet fixed (which ran constantly for nearly a year), much less look for a job or plan my life.
After a year, I had run through whatever savings I had, and was forced to move back in with my dad and stepmom, coincidentally leaving the city with my two remaining friends. It was a deeply shaming moment, but it at least broke my isolation for a time. However, it was always a strained situation. I was able to pull myself together enough to start looking for work, but quickly found that between the economy, the professional relationships I’d strained, and the difficulty in explaining the dropout and a year of doing nothing, I was pretty unemployable in my field. I worked some minimum wage jobs, but not nearly enough to support myself. All the while, it was readily apparent my stepmom wasn’t happy about me living at home, to the point where it became pretty unbearable for me. I didn’t disagree with her, I knew I was being a burden, and by all accounts I should’ve been able to make enough of myself to get out on my own again, but I just didn’t have the strength or energy.
After about a year and a half of this, it became clear this situation wasn’t sustainable; it was clear I had outstayed my welcome, and it was also clear I couldn’t afford to do anything else with what little money I was making. Foolishly, I turned back to exact same solution I’d tried and failed before: I’d go back to school. I plied what few remaining academic contacts I had left, just enough to get references for an application, and got accepted to a 2 year masters program. The big difference this time was, whereas I had been on scholarship to my first program, I was now taking out student loans to pay for this 2nd attempt. I knew it was a bad idea, but it got me out of a situation that was feeling worse and worse, and I hoped maybe I could turn things around this time.
If you’ve read this far, what came next probably isn’t a shock. I made it through a semester before problems started cropping up again. My 2nd semester, the weight of my past failures and the fear of what failing again would mean completely crippled me, and I just stopped showing up to classes entirely about half way through. If I had just left then, things might’ve been ok, but I was terrified to admit failure again, and I couldn’t fathom going back to a house where I was unwanted. My advisor was very understanding, and I set out trying to continue in the program, while meeting with a therapist.
But the struggles have continued. It’s been two more years since then, and in the past 4 semesters, I’ve failed to finish 4 more courses. My student loans cut off this semester, I registered anyway, and made the mistake of doing an independent study with my advisor which is now also delinquent, so the one person who had been understanding is now someone I’m fucking over with my inability to cope.
And that’s where I am now: nearly 30, body in shambles, no self-worth, nobody to lean on without expecting them to pull back, the one thing I’d built myself up around crumbling yet again, over $100k of debt built up, $5 to my name, worse job prospects than ever, and unable to bear the thought of going back to a home where I’m not wanted.
Here’s the thing, I know there could be life beyond this. I know there are people who are much worse off than me who find the strength and desire to carry on. I know my family would sooner be burdened with me than see me dead. I know I could find work, and eventually deal with all that debt. I know that the real solution is to build up some sense of self esteem, get my life on track, and find something to actually make me happy. I know all of that, but I’m just so tired of struggling. I’ve been struggling for a decade now, I’m exhausted, and things are on the verge of getting much, much harder. I just don’t know if I have it in me, I’ve failed to rise to the challenge so many times now. I’ll need to be out of my apartment next week, at which point I can no longer ignore the hole I’ve dug for myself, and I just don’t know if I want to be around for that.
Well, that ended up being a lot longer than I expected. If you’ve managed to get through all that, thanks for taking the time. I’m not sure it’s really improved anything, but at least it’s helped me sort out my thoughts a little.
4 comments
One things for sure, you have a good grasp of your situation. And Isn’t that the first step to solving any problem? living at home probably drained you a lot. I think the title of your post sums up the problem, tired, and you need to catch a break to clear your mind. Sometimes even a random weekend getaway to a roadside motel can help. 29 bucks can get you a bed and free hbo and a night of sanity…
First post? Welcome to the party:/
I’m not sure what to say but I read your post.
Good luck
Writing your thoughts down on a forum like this does help for some reason. I think sometimes, strangers are easier to talk to than friends or family. Believe it or not, you are still young(compared to some of us) and I think it is tougher today on young people. What makes you happy? The one thing that still puts a smile on your face? You seem like you would be perfect at helping people who were like you growing up. Like in a social work career(even tho they don”t make any money). I gave a gut feeling you would find that missing enjoyment in life by helping others. Without knowing more, it’s hard to say but I encourage you, talk to people, write a post when you feel like getting something off your chest and stop thinking there are others that are worse off. The fact you searched suicide and ended up here means you’re in bad shape so don’t worry about anyone else but yourself right now. Wee care even though we are a bunch of depressed strangers
I can relate to your story, even though I have been far lazier than you academically. But I’ve been through the mill of dropping out, feeling unable to muster up the energy to do anything at all, even the simplest of household chores. My CV is much, much worse than yours, but I am fortunate enough to have paid off my official debts (even though I feel like I owe a massive debt to society for having been such a drain on the taxpayer).
I can totally relate to your feeling of exhaustion with the struggle for self-worth, etc. I don’t really know how to advise you, beyond: don’t make the mistake I made and think that psychiatric drugs will fix you. I feel like they fucked me up further, to the point where I have anger issues I never used to have and my moral compass is completely shot these days.
I would say: try to get help, actual help. Why should you shoulder this burden alone?