I quit my job thinking i would be able to make something for myself. of myself. that i would be able to use what i create to support myself. now i see. i cant do this. i cant cope with being alone with my thoughts. i was just on another fucking high. and now i have crashed. i wish i could really see this up down fucking bollocks for what it is… it’s so obvious when i’m coming down, but every time i come up i genuinely believe that this time its forever, everything is better, everything is good. its bullshit. i ALWAYS fall back down. and here i am wallowing at the bottom in the sludge of my own failures once again.
i quit weed thinking it would solve everything. for twelve years i smoked every day and for at least the last five i came to think that rather than being a help it was hindering me, that all my avoiding of life, my antisocial hiding, my awkwardness, my silence, my loneliness, were because of weed. now, i come to see, that that IS me. so what i thought would be some grand revelation of my brighter self has in fact been a crushing realisation of the fact that everything i wanted to let go of is all i really am. and i cant go back for fear of ‘failure’ in the eyes of others. so here i am, wallowing at the bottom in the sludge of my own failures once again.
I thought that having a child would solve everything. that it was all i was waiting for. that on that fine day when i find i am pregnant ( and this time through choice) it would all settle into place and i would see that this is why i’m here, to give life. but now i see that to give life to another is to welcome another helpless soul into this soulless relentless cycle and that to think that giving my self worth by creating another self is entirely selfish and ridiculous, and my entire future has been some illusory dream that in reality makes me feel sick. everything i thought i wanted was a lie and now i have nothing to move towards. and here i am, wallowing at the bottom in the sludge of my own failures once again.
so here i am. sober, numb, alone, lost. wasting every day wishing i was living a life that i wasn’t wasting. i dont know where to go from here. i have let go of the things that i thought were making me unhappy, only to find that my unhappiness is amplified without them. i am so sick of the dualistic, knife twisting. broken mirror bullshit that is life. every time i go up i crash back down harder and its harder to climb out of the hole. and why bother, with every bounce i rise higher. i fall harder. soon i will hit the bottom with such force that i smash into a thousand broken worthless pieces. why drag myself back up for that. so for now, here i’ll stay, wallowing at the bottom in sludge of my own failures once again.
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OK.
I can’t adequately address waking up and suddenly deciding to change direction. The revelations that I wasn’t happy with the direction I was going were always gradual events. But I have a good imagination, so I can see how distressing that is to you.
I wish I could paint a picture for you that shows you how I think about therapy. The closest I can come to explaining it is a bad analogy.
If you break your arm you go to the doctor and give them money. In return they fix your arm and teach you how to take care of it until it is healed. They do this in as nice a way as possible because most doctors care about their patients and they feel good when they are able to help someone.
I see going to a therapist as nothing more than that. Just like I’m not a bad person because I have a broken arm, I am not a bad person, or weak, or wrong because I need mental health help. Arms break, psyches get out of whack, shit happens. I pay the therapist not only to listen to me, but call me out when I’m lying or avoiding issues, and to teach me real usable skills that help me cope. I have every expectation that they will be as compassionate as possible and skilled in their healing arts. If I find them lacking I fire them and get another.
Well, that’s how it works for me. There are quite a few people on SP that have had horrible experiences with therapists and medication. I think I’m the outlier here.
BTW, I do know the feeling of digging out of a hole and then fearing the next crash. I’ve done that several times in my life. I was on a six month plan to kill myself just because I feared my next crash so much. I gave away all my possessions. I even dug my own grave. My dad went and fucked up my perfect plan by getting sick. Now he’s in home hospice and I have to take care of him while he dies. His wife has moderate Alzheimer’s so I have to keep a close eye on her, too. So crashing or giving up or simply being horribly depressed has to take a back seat to the immediate crisis.
And I don’t have any winter clothes goddammit!
Sorry to rant. I hope you find something that works for you.
it’s like my very own thoughts were a lie, all this time. and now i dont know what the fuck im aiming for. and like i said i’ve recently quit my job which to be fair was going no where and paid fuck all, and i thought i was empowering myself and finally doing something for ME, but now im stuck at home, with me, all day, while my partner still works and pays for everything which i fucking hate and all im giving him in return is the joy of watching me sink back into depression because i thought i was strong enough to be alone with my self all day and im just fucking not. im sorry, im swearing a lot. and im ranting.. fuck it. i have no real chance of finding any other work because i live in the middle of no where and have no qualifications because i fucked up college and never went back. and now i find that what i thought i was doing everything for isnt even what i want and i dont know what to do.i’ve lost all faith in myself and the business im trying to start and i just want the earth to swallow me. i couldnt afford therapy even if i wanted it. and i know that really i have little to be so pissed off about. im just fucking sick of my self. i cant kill my self because of what it will do to everyone else. not because i think they really care, it just damages people. im just stuck. and i cant change my life becuase my partner seems content with it.
he has to look after his mother too, she lives next door. she has cancer. so we cant leave here even if we wanted to. this house and most of whats in it came from his parents, you dont shove things like that back in peoples faces. only, its not what i fucking want! i guess im just selfish. but its making me feel like someone is running their nails down a chalk board in my head.
im glad therapy helps you.
maybe what happened with your dad was a sign that you have more to give. watching the inevitability of death may help you realise that kind of permanence isnt really what you want. i dont think its what i really want. i just dont want this.
were it possible i would give you all my winter coats as recompense for actually talking to me! thanks
Hey. Here’s an idea. Volunteer. Find some local do-gooding thing you think makes sense and give a few hours every week. I do Habitat for Humanity, four weekends, twice a year. You could try kitten wrangling, puppy rolling, and, of course, feeding creepy homeless people. My dad used to explain Obamacare to poor people. There are all sorts of things that need doing. It Will Keep You Out of a Rut! It Might Give You Perspective.
Yeah, I screwed myself in college, too. How was I to know that LSD would be so much fun? I gotta go back. Gotta get the damn paper. Grrrr.
I wish I could help. I know that drive to numb yourself. Regardless of what I tried the numbness never lasted as long as I wanted. Paxil helps me. Actively shooting down bad thoughts helps me. But, wow, it tires me out. Now I’m in a place where there is morphine in every drawer. *shudder* Can’t go there. Can’t do that!
I’m afraid your wasp-waisted Gucci coats will not fit my extremely manly slouch. Thanks though.
I’ve thought about that. everything around here is miles away and i dont drive, sounds like such a cop out i know but true. but i agree that it would be good to get away from my self and get some perspective. i understand that i have a lot to be thankful for but that doesnt stop me feeling the way i do.
homeless people aren’t creepy! they are people.
i guess lsd was more fun than looking after a junkie father…. but either way, kinda screwed for missing out.
i do try. day in day out i try to keep the thoughts at bay but sometimes i just crash and it swallows me. i’ve been self medicating for a long time and i think maybe trying to stop that is part of the reason why im in this hole right now.
i know the only person who can help, really, is me. im just feeling right now as though i cant even trust my own thoughts, yet again, so its hard to make sense of anything.
your aversion to morphine is a good thing, dont tread that road.
just as well you have declined because if you were expecting gucci coats you’d have been sorely disappointed!
and i meant to say clothes, originally, not coats!
Keep your bowling shirts then.
Sorry I was no help at all. 🙁 Please keep ranting here if it helps. I know you are in a bad place. Your pain is real and just as bad as everyone else’s, so don’t beat yourself up for the good things you have! This is some serious shit regardless of your social or economic status. I wish you all the best. Many hugs!