…aaand I’m done.

I died 6 years ago. My body just doesn’t know it yet.

I’ve always had problems, since I was a kid in school maybe aged 10. They progressively got worse but I hid them, worked around them, and did things to distract myself and cover up (some healthy, some not).

I’m Bipolar Type 1 with a one-off psychosis/absence event in the past, and previous diagnosis of Generalised Anxiety Disorder and Major Depressive Disorder. I have self harmed and had a major suicide attempt which I failed through my general shitness at anything I ever do. Threw up most of the alcohol & pills, was found on the floor of the shower by my housemate. That was about 4 years ago.

I struggle because I’m normal. I’m smart, I can act ok, but I’m past being strong. In fact I’m even past pretending to be strong. The government has fought me to the ends of the earth to deny me payment, I have no debts (bankrupt) but simply cannot afford to live even the most basic life. I love on a spare room at my Mum’s house – I’m nearly 40. Divorced, broke, bankrupt, unable to work & no assets.

I have mood stabilizers, anti depressants, and valium both for anxiety and to assist with sleep. I have a great GP, psychologist and psychiatrist, and my Mum is very supportive of me. I have been hospitalized maybe ten times or so in the last 5 years, excepting the overnight/ER stays I average about two weeks.

I have a partner who I love very much, and she has two young kids I’d do anything for. As long as I stay alive. My partner is very unwell also and what little I have left I put into keeping her and the kids running. If I stop, they stop.

But I can’t go on any more.

There is no answer. I’ve done all the treatments, all the meds, the government won’t support me and I have no way to make any sort of liveable (or even supplemental) income.

I think about killing myself every day. Every day.

The only reason I’m still here is it would crush my partner, her kids and my Mum. Other than that the world will keep turning… And ironically the only real reason I’m here (partner and kids) are the thing that (aside from finances) I simply cannot cope with.

What do I do when the only thing keeping me alive is killing me?

I finally lost my temper tonight, kicked the couch (sofa) half heartedly and half-screamed for a second. I spend my whole life keeping a lid on my tears, my emotions, my anger and my hurt. I don’t hide them, I discuss them regularly and at length. But this has been going for 30 years, pretty bad for the last 15 and absolutely full on the last 5.

Can’t… go… on.