One upshot of being unable to work due to depression is that it gives quite a bit of perspective on decisions I’ve made. I was to focus in on the last one, the one that led to me being in this mess.
It was May 2021, and my health was circling the drain. I wanted to ride it down, because due to ADA and my insurance plan being disabled was a better option than being employed. I let my wife and parents talk me into walking out when it had only half broken me.
Fast forward to today; suicide hotline guy verifies that my supervisor was trying to avoid having to make ADA accommodations. So it wasn’t a personal slight against me, just business…. So humanity is every bit as cruel as I estimated, and somehow I’m to come to terms with that? Here’s my terms; better drugs or death. I can’t work without better drugs, and since I’ve been forced to gamble on my ability to work…… it’s all over essentially. I ran out of money, can’t even buy food that I like. Don’t have the energy to cook, or clean, or hunt for a job. At this point I’ve also cut off social media, news and anything that would rub salt in the wound.
So since I have little else to discuss, I’m quiet, as I wait for the day that I will be in enough pain to end it. What else is there? Not anything for a foolish kindhearted idiot such as myself.
Oh, and top it off that my therapist ghosted me on Monday.
2 comments
Hi there. This does sound pretty challenging to say the least. I wanted to let you know I’ve read your words. I know for me that helps in some small way. To be heard. To know someone is there. Listening.
I care – if that in any way helps. I do. I really do.
I care about your words. Your pain, your experience. The challenges your have faced and continue to face.
Who ever you are – I send you love.
I am a foolish kindhearted idiot, and I understand. Love is not mine to keep, I send it to you. I hear your words, and I sit with you in spirit.