I dug myself a hole of depression. Now I’m stuck, so the only thing left to do is keep on digging and see where it leads. Well I found where it leads, in a girl from somewhere and a guy from somewhere.
Suicide- according to them is the answer; end result or whatever you want to call it. However, I live in fear of the day I’m told I’m going to die. Ironic, considering I want it most in the world some times.
Of coarse everyday I tell myself and numerous others that I’m “fine”. Which I am. I mean there is literally no other word to describe how I am. Not happy by any means, not excited or in love, or even indifferent to everything that passes by.
There are words, however,that describe exactly how I am. Words like, lost, confused, sick, numb, hurt, angry and lets not forget depressed. But the only problem with these words is that they cannot be spoken, at least not in front of actual people. People who will acknowledge the fact that you are dyeing inside but still manage not to offer any help.
So I guess “fine” will do.
2 comments
i often like to experiment with embellishing to an insulting and dismissive degree, as thus:
Q: “…and how are you?”
A: “glorious.”
Q: “…and how are you?”
A: “absolutely wonderful.”
Q: “…and how are you?”
A: “this is the best day of my life.”
…which i suppose is probably better than telling people to fuck off for asking stupid questions like “how are you?” while knowing i’m miserable and hate nearly every moment of my existence.
And other times, i opt for the intentionally long pause: “…” … “…fine…” because i want them to realize that i hate feeling like i’m expected to lie and say i’m fine, which only adds more fuel to the fire in which i burn, since they already know i’m not fine and don’t enjoy being forced to lie about it just for their convenience.
I’m in the same spot as you, kind of. I am at the point in life where there are more days behind me than ahead of me, and I’ve realized that every dream I ever had will never come true, ever. No career, kids are impossible, no family, no friends. So what is the point in going on, day after day, year after year. At my age you can’t start over, go back to school, make childhood friends, start a family. I believe that life as a human being is a complete joke, perhaps the greatest cruelest prank the cosmos can play on itself. You start out with all the energy and potential to do anything you work for, but you don’t realize the gift you have of being young and healthy. Then you age, realize what you could have done differently and then it’s too late to do it. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak. That is what it comes down to it for me. So knowing, factually, that my best days are behind me, and being flat broke, without a real career, no family, no ability to do what I want to do and facing the prospect of ending up alone and on government assistance sitting in a chair in an ever weakening body (and mind), I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands on this one thing that I can control. I’ve been researching a lot into methods of going and having nearly od’d accidentally that is the way to go. But it’s so unreliable. I’ve been deathly sick from food poisoning before and that got me to thinking about a holistic method. A bottle of zofran, a couple cups of raw apple seeds, and a couple bowls of raw red kidney beans I’m hopeful will do the trick. The apple seeds turn into cyanide when digested, and the raw beans contain a toxic chemical themselves. Just wish I knew it would work.