What can I say? I’m 27 unemployed, living with my dad and step mom. I’ve gained like 50 lbs….im 200 lbs right now… I feel gross I’m 5’8
I had a psychotic break a couple years ago… lost everything. My job, car, apartment, boyfriend. I had a good job, nice car, awesome boyfriend….
I started getting delusional, i literally lost my mind. I was living on the street for a while. then my parents found me and I came home….
For some reason I’m suicidal now and not when I was homeless? I guess reality set it… when I was living on the street I was happier… strange I know.. but now I’m back it’s like the “reality” of what happened to my life has hit me and it’s depressing.
Honestly I feel no motivation for life. The only reason I haven’t taken my life is because of the difficulty. I wish there was some kind of suicide spa you could go to you know? “Check in to check out” Get a nice massage then take a nice long eternal nap.
I’m happiest when I’m asleep. I love sleep, it takes me away from my reality. The reality that I’m pretty much a fucking loser. Not looking for pity, just stating the facts.
Dreams are my escape it’s what I look forward to daily, just checking out mentally and dreaming. I’m seeing a therapist, taking depression medication but I’m sick of it all. I hate this life…. I want to sleep forever…. It really fucking sucks that we get no say in being born.
I just want out…yet part of me wishes there was an afterlife…. the truth is no one knows…. until you die… and then well… you’re dead.
It’s all so stupid and pointless to me….
5 comments
Just know that you aren’t alone in feeling that way.
It’s nice to know that I’m not alone… I just wish there was a cure for “life” well I guess there is one… death.
Hi Ghost, I too have feelings similar to you and the only thing that keeps me going is knowing it cant get much worse for me.. I have made it this far in my manic depressive life (35) so I now just hold onto that tiny glimmer of hope that tomorrow will bring something new to me even if its only a opportunity, I know its hard but hold on in there cos you just never know.. take care… Steve
Manic depression really does suck. I have some good days but most are low… I’ve been recently really really low. It’s just hard for me to hold onto any glimmer… My heart or soul I should say doesn’t want to feel happy…because I know the happiness will be over and the numbingly painful (if that makes any sense) feeling will be back.
I’m happy you are holding onto hope the only reason I haven’t killed myself is because I’m afraid of it. The idea is kinda scary somehow I know I’d mess something up and end up in a worse situation. I hate sounding so depressed, so pathetic but it’s just how I feel…
Obviously, you’re not alone; not that knowing that offers much comfort, but there are plenty of us out here who hear you and understand and sympathize. We’ve all got a story to tell, we all have our struggles. I’m not really suicidal anymore, but I have my moments and I do struggle with bipolar/anxiety/depression and plain old obnoxious disdain for life on a regular basis. Sometimes it’s other people I hate, but more often it’s me. And I’ve got it all. I’ve got a fabulous life. It’s not perfect, but I don’t really want for much. But still, I can’t stand my own skin and wish I could take it off just to get away from myself and cut out and dispose of that part inside of me that makes me want to weep and scream and run. Biologically, I get it. I understand that medication can help. I get the science behind the fact that there are these certain chemicals that don’t always function properly, which can be activated by stressful situations – the chemistry behind the depression is fascinating to me and so very logical, but it frustrates me to no end that I cannot control it without the help of that little bitty pill to level it out. But in the end, it does help. I don’t have a job, or insurance, or anyone to take care of me. I’m a single mother to a child with pretty moderate autism, so she needs me to be straight. That’s my motivation, you know? But it doesn’t change the fact that even though I know I’ll never kill myself because I cannot do that to her, and I’ve already lost friends to suicide throughout my lifetime and I know what it does to everyone else – it’s so selfish and I hate them for not caring that I cared for them – and they are a big part of the reason I’m so fucked up… sometimes, though… I still just want to check out. Not permanently. Just in that comatose fashion. For a long time. It gets better. Or at least, it can get better. I saw my doctor today and got a refill, so I know I’ll be a whole different person very soon. I hope you can find your way to a doctor somewhere and get some help. It doesn’t have to be this hard. There’s help out there. You just have to find enough motivation to go get it. Good luck, love – and PS, even at 200lbs, I promise that you’re not gross. We all feel that way, even those of us who might look perfect on the outside, we all still feel gross – like cannot-stand-the-site-of-myself-in-the-mirror to the point where I want to put my head through a wall kind of gross. No apologies for sounding depressed. It’s just another part of life we’ve got to figure out how to deal with. Peace be with you. I hope you find your happy.