One thing guaranteed to worsen depression is the knowledge of how lucky you are.
Whine, whine, whine. That’s all it feels I do. Why can’t I be grateful for what I have, thankful for all the opportunities I am provided that I am sure billions of people would be thankful for? Depression feels like such a disgustingly self-centered, selfish disease. I despise myself so much for not being able to make something of myself, to live up to any expectation I have of myself no matter how small and pathetic. If only I had a reason to be unhappy, aside from whatever quirk in brain chemistry makes me so useless. Being honest, I think depression is like any other trait, influenced by genes and environment. “Genes may load the gun, but it’s environment that fires it” is one expression I’ve heard to describe hereditary diseases, and I think this is true of depression as well. Genetic disposition combined with life experiences can add up to debilitating depression in some, or just a bad memory for others. I wish depression were a choice; I want people to understand that some people were born with a brain more inclined to dwelling on dark thoughts. If you want me to buck up and accept that life is tough and unfair, I want you to buck up and accept that some people will need to take their own life, because that’s just how life is sometimes.
Why does society make it so hard to kill one’s self? Why is there such shame, stigma and discouragement associated with it. Ironically, I believe that were suicide less stigmatized, there would be less of it. Simply because I’ve read so much that a lot of deaths that are clearly intentional drug overdoses are ruled accidental, or for example how …probably shouldn’t say, because methods are not supposed to be discussed. Anyway, suffice to say that the official suicide rate is probably much higher than most countries are willing to admit, like the French and heart disease.
I sincerely regret not killing myself when I had the chance previously. When I had access to a cleaner and more painless method. I wish I were brave enough to make a statement of my suicide, to use it to encourage dialogue about state sanctioned suicide. I’ll settle for some way that is not too atrocious – at least, until I get more desperate. Then it’s the usual the thought of how bad is a few minutes of agony compared to years of endless tears and drudgery
3 comments
This definitely touches on some issues that happen for me as well. I don’t feel that I “deserve” to feel bad about my situation. I know people personally who have it worse, a lot worse than me.
Yet such it is. This is how it is coped with (by me anyway): Learning to accept that there are some things in the world that cannot be changed. This doesn’t mean I’ve figured all of that out, I’m still grousing about the things I can control….. Regret is a big push into depression. It’s called ruminating when one thinks on what went wrong and what could have been, and it’s a major symptom of depression.
It’s hard to die because for whatever reason the world values us. There’s a myth/rumor/hypothesis going around that people who are mentally ill are commonly highly intelligent. It sounds like justification to me for spending so much money trying to fix people that want to die. My function is to find poor reasoning, and work out logic for better solutions. If something strokes the ego it is immediately suspect.
For now we’re alive. The upshot is that is only for now, and eventually death will come as it has come for every human ever to live. KBO, keep buggering on friend.
Hmmm I’d never thought of it that way, that ‘the world values us’. Maybe I’ve just gotten too cynical. Because, I feel they are just selfishly valuing their own feelings over mine.
To me, it’s like putting down a pet. I love pets too much, and can no longer have them for exactly that reason: it’s too hard to put them down when they (too soon) get ill and elderly. And everyone says it’s about mercy, it’s about caring about how they feel (suffering) more than my own grief at having to say goodbye.
My (soon to be ex) partner says that I can’t kill myself because it would devastate half a dozen people, including himself. But what about my feelings, my suffering? Where is the empathy for my plight? (I want to say ‘plight’, because I keep reading about Yemen and good god but people are evil. It’s so horrible that I want to die, and yet all these people who want safety and comfort or even just food security like I have, they not only don’t have it, but live a nightmare)
Anyway. I want those half dozen people (really, just maybe 3-4) who would be ‘devastated’ by my death to have to just accept it, like I had to accept putting down my dog and cat.
I had a dream last night I was killing myself, I was so happy in that dream, and I woke up feeling so happy and relieved. It took me a moment to figure out why I felt that way, to remember the dream of dying.
Thank you for your reply though. I hope you feel better soon.
There has been some compelling research on depression and dietary supplementation. It seems that the balance of certain omega fats in the brain has a strong effect on some types of depression. Unfortunately we are generally deficient in these unlike our semi distant ancestors due to massive changes in diet through time. My own depression was greatly helped through proper supplementation.