As someone considering suicide, here is what people should know

I don’t want to feel this way.

I feel pity for myself. I feel sorry.

All I do is eat, cry, sleep and repeat. Sometimes I’ll occupy myself. I love running and I can’t even run properly because I’m always crying. It kinda makes it hard to breathe.

I’m so tired of this life. It sounds like such a cliche, but it’s true.

You know what I think about as I lie here and cry myself to an early grave?

That maybe, just maybe someone will come to save me. But it never happens.

I keep thinking about the previous men in my life. The ones who were supposed to love me. And I keep wondering whether they feel any remorse for hurting me.

The worst thing is I don’t want to feel this way. I want to be normal and get on with my life. But, since I’ve been suffering with severe depression and anxiety since I was a child, with no help whatsoever, I feel so tired now it’s like I can’t even contemplate a normal life.

The simple truth is, I feel so lost. And so lonely. And I don’t know whether I want to live or die. I guess I’m at the cusp of deciding.

I truly feel like I don’t belong in this world. Or maybe I do. Recently I came to realise there is one other option for me, as a way out of this desperate torment.

I cannot speak of it, but I am seriously considering it.

As someone who is right now seriously considering suicide; here is what the world should know.

Nothing will stop me from doing so. Nothing anyone says, or does, will stop me once I’ve made up my mind. I guess, I’m not so sure yet. But my life is empty. And no one is to blame for that. Taking ones own life is the most unselfish thing to do. Take it from someone who is hesitating to knock on death’s door.

 

Dear me, it’s not your fucking fault

Dear me,

It’s not your fault if you were humiliated as a child.

It’s not your fault if someone who had no business to undressed you against your will as a young child.

It’s not your fault that schoolkids said your nose was ugly and your ears were big.

It’s not your fault if a teacher tried to get schoolboys to stop you from leaving a classroom.

It’s not your fault if your family members compared you to a monkey.

It’s not your fault if you felt like a nothing and a nobody every day of your childhood and teen years.

It’s not your fault if you spent your young adult life cutting your arms, and cutting your hair twice trying to make your mother notice.

It’s not your fault she ignored you.

It isn’t your fault you suffered from so much severe anxiety.

It’s not your fault you hated yourself, and have begun to do the same.

It’s not your fault that the men you dated called you ugly, a whore, weird, and a terrorist.

It’s not your fault that one was married. It’s not your fault he didn’t believe you when you were pregnant. It’s not your fault he called you a murderer when you have to terminate for fear of your life.

It’s not your fault that people still bully you on social media.

Dear me,

It isn’t your fucking fault that when you commit suicide, the world will not miss you. None of these people will. Only your parents will mourn you.

It’s not your fucking fault. Stop hurting yourself. Just stop. Stop crying your heart out. Stop hurting yourself. IT. IS. NOT. YOUR. FAULT.

I need to process my grief, before I can look to the future

It’s been almost two weeks since I resigned from my job.

It’s been difficult, and I’ve slept a lot. I haven’t done any gardening, ‘spring’ cleaning or work.

But I’ve been keeping myself busy by going out here and there and starting a new diet and exercise regime. But it’s only stopped me from thinking about my issues. And today it all came to a head when I finally had a ‘bad’ day again, after about a week of fairly OK ones.

I’m finding increasingly that I have some bad childhood memories circulating around my mind. And I think it’s because I’ve stopped moving forward in life, that finally my mind is having a chance to process what I’m feeling from my past.

The memories are all to do with humiliation, force, and fear.

They all involve males, too, unsurprisingly. My mother told me that when I was younger, I suffered from an uncontrollable fear of people in white coats. This is evidence that my earliest bad memory is not just a conjuring of my mind. It is real. Without going into too much detail, it involves a man in a white coat crossing the boundary of my consent as a toddler, invading my space and bodily autonomy, and; needlessly undressing me.

As I grapple with these memories, some involving groups of boys as a pupil at a school, I find they cross into my most recent experiences involving bad relationships with men.

But my problems do not end there. They interweave with all sorts of issues, the main one being a lack of self-esteem and confidence.

Most of my anxiety and depression comes from these factors. And when I’m triggered, they all come flooding to the surface.

All of this means that hopefully I am processing what is inside my mind during my time off from work, responsibility and commitment. I am trying not to do anything stressful, like go out at busy times to shopping centres etc. But it is hard, especially when I feel like such a failure for quitting life. But I am only doing it to process all of the grief I carry with me, so that I can look to my future with minimal hindrance.

Who knows if this is going to work? I’ll keep you posted. Thank you for reading this. It means a lot to me that there are people who like my posts and resonate with what I am going through.

 

 

I gave myself therapy, and I can’t go on any longer

Since I was a child, I have given myself cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT).

I have never been particularly interested in jumping on the bandwagon about mental health, and have always fought through my anxiety and depression.

Recently, I quit my dream job, which I had worked so hard to get, because I just couldn’t continue with life anymore. I basically ran out of steam.

Now, I’ve begun to follow people suffering with mental health issues, and also mental health charities via blogs, social media and vlogs.

Never have I felt so alone.

I read posts, and experiences and offers of ‘help’. And it just makes me angry.

I’ve never been taken seriously with my issues. My family don’t really know how to deal with it, and counselling failed me. I have a couple of sessions before I gave up in anger.

The recent ‘therapist’ also put some wild accusations about me, which are stuck in my medical records forever now. I can’t tell you how angry I am.

I have dealt with my issues alone. I have NEVER taken medication. I took Sertraline just once for a few days. I immediately stopped.

I am angry that I have had to live with myself in this way, and I have done EVERYTHING to try and live a normal life. I have pushed, and punished myself continuously. And for what? Now that I’ve crashed and burned, who is here to pick me up?

I have to do it all by myself, and feel tremendous amounts of guilt that I have to quit something I worked so hard for.

The only people supporting me is my immediate family. When people tell you help is out there: it isn’t.

No one fully understands mental health and on top of that there is a stigma that people say they want to shake, but they won’t.

A lot of people deny that mental health is an actual illness. But, I am living proof that I have tried to live a normal life with no help, WITH SEVERE ANXIETY. And even I have got to a point where I’m so exhausted that I can’t even carry my limbs properly.

What help can someone give? Artificial drugs? Give you ‘therapy’ that you’ve already given yourself?

I’ll get up again, dust myself off, and soldier on like I always do, when I’ve had a rest.

But who is to say, that the next time I crash and burn, that someone will be there to look after me that time?

And if I commit suicide, I’m selfish. And if I self-harm, it’s ‘common’. And if I go to the GP, I’m just another candidate for the ‘drug candy’ doctors so carelessly chuck at you.

AND IF I QUIT LIFE FOR A WHILE, which is what I have done now, I’m a quitter. I’m a loser. I’m a nobody. Well, that isn’t true. But it’s how the world makes you feel.

And if I didn’t quit, it’s okay just as long as I pay my tax, and spend my money on useless shit with credit I’ll pay back with difficulty. It doesn’t matter that my brain is slowly turning to mush.

This ‘we care’ bullshit. It isn’t real. So buckle up, soldier. The war is still going on, and this is just one of the battles you’ve lost.

 

Everything in the world is waiting for you for when you’re better

Yesterday, I could barely move.

I spent the day worrying about going into work the next. And I tried to forget by watching films, eating bad food and being incredibly uncomfortable in my own skin.

And then my mother, who is the only one in the world who cares about me more than herself, said: “Why don’t you just leave? You’re making yourself ill.”

My eyes lit up for the first time in twenty-four hours. I thought about it.

“I won’t let myself quit. Because I’d feel like a failure.”

She sighed, open mouthed.

“It’s not failure. Just stay at home and rest.”

I’m glad I have a supportive mother, somewhat at least. Sometimes she will say things that people with mental illnesses do not want to hear. But yesterday she supported me.

With that, I began to think that I could not live my life as a zombie. That I needed to stop before it killed me.

And so, I asked myself for permission to take some time off from working a job. Do nothing for two or three months.

And today, I have woken up to feelings of guilt, but equally feelings of resolve, that I can finally quit my job, and quit the outside world for a while. And just write. I find writing therapeutic.

I haven’t actually had any time off. I’ve been either in education or working all of my life.

And now, in my 30’s, I think the time has come. Because I just can’t keep up anymore. My health is suffering.

As you may know, I’m quitting my dream job that I worked so hard to get, to rest. So, I’ve battled through the dark, thick smoke that is my doubt and feelings of guilt and quitting.

It’s becoming a bit clearer now, and finally I can say stop.

I made this decision a few weeks ago, then I went back to work. Then I was off sick again, then I said I’d go back to work. Now, this is my final decision.

And yes I worry about what people will think of me. But they have not lived with crippling severe anxiety since they were children, have they?

Self-care is the most important thing. And if you can, take the chance and take some time to yourself. In our society, we forget to rest. We are always on the go. We need the career, we need the house, we need money, we need friends, we need the spouse, we need children. NEVER COMPARE YOURSELF.

What you are going through is different to others. Just because that friend or relative of yours, who is younger, has a better career than you, or is married, doesn’t mean you failed.

If you’re feeling like you need to stop or else you’ll drop dead, then stop. Too many times we see people burning out.

Well, the way I feel I think I have burnt out… but, well I guess it’s either rest or commit suicide.

Everything in the world is waiting for you for when you’re better. Don’t believe that you have to GO GO GO all of the time. Even early-man slept through the day, when the sun was at its highest. They didn’t work themselves to death. Why should we?