I am in the social services world. I help people find hope, feel good about themselves, provide uncanny empathy, and secretly want to die, every day. It’s so conflicting. I feel like a phony on so many levels.
What really sucks for me is that I’m done, really done, but I have people that I know will be affected forever if I do anything about it. I have 5 kids, 30, 27, 25, 23, and 17.
After years of struggle and sacrifice to get their dad through school (12 out of our 13-year marriage) so he could and get his dream job, he left for a woman who was his student and his teacher’s aide (Dream job? University professor in the field of behavioral sciences and licensed therapist; ironic, right?)
At the time it all hapoened, our kids were 13, 10, 7, 5, 1 week old. He got involved with her While I was pregnant and I had no idea. He left me to clean up the mess and raise the kids; he checked out completely, no visitation and no interaction, except emails to me during the first four years, telling me how I was ruining the kids and there was nothing he could do about it. They are still together. He is very successful; still at the same University and even the department chair. He has a thriving counseling practice.
I wish I would have just ended myself then. I wanted to, but didn’t. I’m not sure why. I should have. The timing would have made much more sense.
I had been a stay-at-home mom for several years. My sister and her husband took us all in because I was not functioning. On top of everything else, I suffered from post-partum depression that got worse with each pregnancy (please spare me all the judgement on the size of my family, 3 were against-the-odds accidents, and #5 was because he wanted a girl, besides, as far as I knew, we had a better-than-most marriage. We didn’t have lots of fights or disagreements. We had ups and downs.)
My sister convinced me to apply for graduate school. I did, and was accepted. I graduated with an EdS 3 years later, and was employeed even before I graduated. Sounds like a good start, right? It just didn’t take away the deep betrayal, continued depression, guilt, shame, and anxiety. Nevertheless, I am a master at surviving and faking-it-til-you-make-it. I just never got to the “made it” part.
I went on to have 2 more very short, very unsuccessful marriages from 2004 to 2007 (first divorce 2000). Those made things considerably worse!
The kids are all raised now and have their own lives, except for the one who was a newborn. She is a senior this year and has a bright future ahead of her, as long as I don’t screw it up. All of them are doing well, not perfect and still human, but much more resilient than me. I tried to raise them that way.
I love them so much, but at the same time I feel I am a prisoner and a burden to them. I don’t want them to have to live with the fact that their mom committed suicide. I would be doing to them nearly the same that was done to me. Some may get over it, others may not, just like some people get over betrayal and some, like me, don’t. I also don’t want to be a burden ore a drag to them. That’s just more I have to feel guilty and ashamed about.
I have been so depressed for so long, but I’m a great actress so most people have no idea what actually goes through my head every day. In the beginning, I had hope that I would recover, when my life so unexpectedly got turned upside down. I really did believe that when I got over it. I would be better and actually have a better life. However, it has just been one unanticipated traumatic event after another since that time. I’ve d done a while lot of rising above and finding new hope over the years, but the last few arounds, I have steadily last any desire to do that again and again. I no longer believe that things will ever be any different.
I’m 51, alone, in a job that was supposed to be my salvation, but turned out to be my hell. I’ve lived with depression and fear my whole life. I am a prisoner in my otherwise healthy body, and long life is in my genes. I have to figure out a way to end it, or…what? Getting better doesn’t seem to be likely. What is the alternative?
3 comments
I’m only about to be 20, and I kinda feel like you. I was verbally abused, and sometimes physically through my childhood. I would already be over that. My physical health has taken a dramatic toll. Unlike you, im not leaving much to my name. Just a few belongings and that’s it. If you can get past the guilt you can do it. I’m not urging you to do anything. Just what you want. There is no alternative. You’re between a hard place and a rock. Sounds like things are getting worse and you can sense it. Honestly sounds likeyou’re pissed off about everything , the job you hate. The successful ex husband you hate. You love and adore the kids though, and that’s when the guilt comes, if you where to actually do it. The choices are yours, the options are there. Do as you wish, but I’m trying to die. I’ll probably be successful too…
Read your post, found it very enlightening.
Seems like some are simply called to be of service, but that does nothing to change a basic fact of life. I’ve discovered in the past 5 years that I need to be “of service.” But it’s odd how that need/drive is separate from the suicidal drive, how one might believe one tempers the other. Perhaps it does. I’m 53, no family, and I spend my days wondering what I’m waiting for? Seriously, what?
Thanks for your thoughts.
Thank you both for your trespasses. At least that helps me feel visible and understood in ways that can’t be on other venues where everyone feels it is their mission to cheer me, disused me, or save me. Been hearing those kinds of responses for so long.
It’s no wonder to me that when people really do follow through with ending their lives, those around them are sometimes surprised and shocked. It doesn’t take long to figure out what NOT to talk about.
Again, thanks!