thebends

You’d never guess I’d be posting this after what I said last week about no one ever making it out of suicidal depression alive.

but yeah, I beat this. I didn’t just beat it, I fucking bodyslammed it into the dirt and pissed on its grave. 13 years of suicidal depression is finally over and I’m back to the real me.

Before I go on I want to be clear, even though I managed to squeeze my ass out of this beartrap I’m not gonna insult anyone’s intelligence by saying IT GETS BETTER because it doesn’t. It gets worse we all know that. Life is basically a […]

I keep having these moments of “I can’t wait to tell A about this” or “Only A would know how this feels” but then I suddenly get shaken back to reality: I remember that A fucking killed herself. What does that say about me, that the only person who felt the way I do about life chose to end it? It’s like seeing 2 of the same person but one lives and the other dies. Who do you suppose got the raw end of this deal

I’m not talking about celebrities or motivational speakers who claim on camera they beat it. As we see with celebrities, they often post positive messages, even write books on ‘recovery’ but eventually succumb to the darkness anyway. I’m also not talking about people who pop by SP saying “it gets better”. More often than not they seem to spiral back to depression soon enough.

I’m talking about someone whose life made a real turnaround and they lived a full life and died of natural causes at age 86 with a smile on their face.

Just 1 credible example of recovery might offer a little hope.

I’m actually in […]

We’re force fed conflicting messages. In one ear there’s “HELP IS AVAILABLE! REACH OUT!” while in the other ear is “YOU HAVE TO WANT TO GET BETTER! GOD HELPS THOSE WHO HELP THEMSELVES!”

In other words, from birth you’re given 2 completely opposite set of instructions. The 1st says you’re supposed to ask for help, while the 2nd says stop whining, you’re on your own.

Instruction set #1 would’ve been nice, but it never worked for me. Every time I reached out for help I was either ignored, ridiculed or outright exploited. So I went with instruction set #2. And aside from me being totally fucked in […]

it all seems so pointless, like sweeping a dirty floor but you don’t have a dustpan so you keep finding new places to hide the dirt. Now it’s under a table, now it’s behind a bookcase, now it’s in a corner, it doesn’t matter because it’ll never go away.

Well the big ‘news’ is I’ve quit SH (my regular method) going on a month or more. I got sick of cleaning up the mess so I just stopped. But it immediately got channeled into a different vice (back to drugs, which I had quit for most of the year). So there’s that huge pile of dirt […]

haven’t seen any posts like this on this site but I figured I’d shoutout to anyone who gets it. If you’re familiar with the term “high functioning” or the obsolete and controversial label “asberger syndrome” then that’s in the ballpark. But I’m talking about fucking supercalifragilistic high functioning followed immediately by extended periods of catastrophic paralysis, or outright self destruction. You could also imagine bipolar with the knob cranked up to 11, although that’s not exactly it either.

With me it manifests itself with a “drill sergeant” personality that sometimes unexpectedly kicks in. And he’s a real fucking dick. But most of the time it’s effective […]

has anyone else reached the point where you don’t even bother trying to figure out what went wrong, bad luck, trauma, attackers, failures, whatever. It’s all just a shit soup and it’s ridiculous to pick out the ingredients. It’s equally ridiculous figure out what would fix it, a dash of marjoram, a hint of rosemary, whatever. There’s no point trying to rationalize this.

I had a great day not long ago. Like it actually felt good to be alive. Today nothing has changed but the only thing stopping me from jumping off a skyscraper is no skyscrapers around here.and jumping off a ranch house doesn’t quite […]

found out this morning about another one of the gang who’s dead. details sketchy but major alcohol abuse is at the center of it. i’m sure this isn’t normal. but I guess I ran with a fast crowd for a while, lots of addiction, several suicides, a murder or two, and a couple uncategorized mysterious deaths like the girl who got her head cut off at the lake. if I believed in a conscious god here’s where i would quote the Wrath of Khan: “like a poor marksman you keep… missing…. the …. target”

in my line of work there’s a strict hierarchy. I suppose it’s the same in every career but it’s especially strong in careers that aren’t ruled strictly by money. Sure money controls everything, but there are a few areas where money is secondary. Say for example athletics–no amount of money can make a slow runner win the race, it ultimately comes down to ability, talent, hard work and all the “noble” qualities we admire. my problem is that my line of work isn’t as clearcut as athletics; it’s still judged on a very subjective basis and that’s where $$ sticks its dirty fingers in. If […]

doped up on pills and babbling into the void just for the sake of giving myself some reading material when i sober up. I wonder if M is dead. The last thing she told me was that she had relapsed on heroin and I never heard from her again. She didnt want to die. Not like the others. What a fucking shame it would be if she’s dead. but i guess we all saw it coming. Is it normal to have so many friends who are dead? I have more dead friends than living ones.

D’s funeral was surreal. Snapshots are all I remember. Beginning with […]

today i was reminded of an old friend who always said the key to a happy life is being the big fish in a small pond. fuck that. How can you be truly happy knowing your greatest accomplishments are just piss in a puddle? More to the point, how can you be happy without earning the respect of people you respect?

thats the problem with small ponds. if you’re truly the ‘big fish’ then all the little fish around you are just toadies & sycophants, kneeling to your greatness but they would just as soon kneel to a velvet elvis. Fuck this little shit town and […]

this is so ridiculous because I know exactly what will happen, I know what would stop it, but without it the destruction is inevitable. When I say destruction I mean (yet another) relapse into SH and drugs and suicidal agony that lasts about 3 days. Predictable like clockwork. Something triggers me (like it did just now), and I have about 2hrs to break the spiral otherwise I resort to that nasty stuff.

Talking, logic and words won’t help. So this is really a pointless rant. There has to be a physical interruption in my destructive routine. A knock at the door and someone diverting my attention […]

for the life of me I cant figure why cant pull my shit together. All i have to do is get off my ass and do the work, then I get everything I ever wanted. or at least things will be set in motion. Yes its a shitload of work but Im no stranger to shitloads of work. Ive accomplished almost every goal I ever set but this last one is

too much?

no actually its the easiest. I’m just wiped out. years of being beat down, by others, by myself, by the gods by the demons whatever, years of being beat down have taught me to […]

me: fuck i just got triggered real fucking fucking bad

nobody:

me: i mean real motherfgucking bad my worst nightmare is happening

nobody:

me: im trying to hold on with everything ive got but thats not enough. not today. ive done all the things they tell you to do in a crisis. its not working its not fucking working

nobody:

me: idgaf i should just go back to my sh and my pills if thats all i got

nobody:

me: i mean is that a good idea

nobody:

me: seriously will it be better to just suffer thru this and wait for it to go away? or wiull it keep amplifying? the bridge is just […]