• Member Since 12th Aug, 2017
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chris the cynic

Someone who doesn't know how to describe herself, is always struggling with debilitating depression, and won't stop hanging onto the hope that happy endings are possible.

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Living is like drowning · 3:15pm Sep 10th, 2020

Living is like drowning. At least I think it is. I've never actually been drowning. Unless I have, but I've lost it in the haze that is my memories.

I'll break the surface, and I can finally breathe, and the world will have more color, but before I can do much of anything, I sink again. In the process I lose any little thing that I might have done, and also lose my orientation. Each time I come up, it's like I'm starting from first principles, because whatever I might have thought or tried or wanted before disappeared while I was under. Any direction or momentum I had is lost, and it's lucky if it even gets to be a faded memory.

It's happened so many times, it's always the same. A year ago I thought I was finally breaking through, that the worst was behind me and I was getting better. It was false hope. A couple weeks later, it was the same. And a couple weeks after that.

My mom kept getting thrown for a loop, because she'd see me when I was on the upswing, and I'd tell her truly that I thought things were finally getting better, but because it never lasts, and because the up times are the exception, not the rule, the next time she'd see me I was back to normal. "Normal", these days, is the worst I've ever been. Has been for over a year, though how much over I don't know.

At this point, it's hard to believe hope is anything but a lie. A day or two, sometimes even three, when I'm somewhat improved and things seem stable doesn't mean much of anything, at least not in a good way. The fall is always harder if you fall from somewhere, so there's more suffering when you have spots of hope, but beyond that . . . my life is basically the same as it would be if I were always this way instead of almost always this way.

I wish I could go to sleep and stay that way. Just sleep. Not harm, not injury or illness, just sleep. Got to sleep, let the darkness take me, and have it be endless without being tragic. Somehow, impossibly, it's normal sleep instead of a coma or other medical emergency and everyone knows that. "She can't talk now, she's asleep, but that's not a bad thing." I get to disappear, and no one feels bad about it.

The post I originally wrote the above as part of had a lot more shit after that, but most of it is just me whinging about the fact that I'm financially, fucked, with a small side of being so not on top of things that I'm not exactly eating or drinking properly. No one wants to hear about that.

In the extremely unlikely event someone wants to help, here's a link. I desperately need thousands of dollars, and every little bit helps, and so on, but you could find someone more deserving of your help without even trying. That's if you can help anyone, which, at a time like this, most people can't.

There was other stuff interwoven with the finances stuff, I'll try to summarize.

On my birthday I found out that my cat was missing. She's an indoor/outdoor cat, I left for several days, and my now-ex housemate didn't . . . do anything, really. In the time I was gone, in which housemate was supposed to be taking care of the cat and the dog, housemate didn't let the cat in even once. She says that that's because the cat was never there, and that's possible, but I feel like cause and effect would more likely go in the opposite direction: the cat disappeared because housemate never let her in or fed her, rather than housemate never let her in or fed her because the cat disappeared. Regardless, the cat's gone.

Four or five days after finding out the cat was gone, I crossed over into actively suicidal for the first time. It's a small change, really, to go from merely not wanting to live to actually wanting to die. I didn't actually do anything, and it passed pretty quickly, but it's a major milestone in my life, and not one I ever wanted to pass. I spent the next month in bed, getting up only to take my meds, eat, drink, and use the bathroom. That ended a about a week ago, so now I spend most of m awake time sitting, instead of lying in bed.

You'll note that nowhere in the previous paragraph did I mention looking for my cat, or putting up posters, or asking my neighbors if they'd seen her. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself. If she's not dead, that implies she found someone to feed her, and in that case I think it's fair to say that she's better off with without me. I couldn't even make myself leave the house for her.

So, that's life. I don't know if this post served any real purpose. I guess it might give some insight onto why I haven't made any progress on any of my stories.

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Comments ( 3 )

Listen... you shouldn't feel sorry for yourself because of a blunder your housemate did. It's their fault your cat's not around, not you, also I left you $10 so you could have something to eat. It's not much, but hopefully it's enough to calm the monster in your stomach and remember: suicide solves nothing.

At one time, I was suicidal... once. But that's changed now, so whenever I'm feeling down, I always remember these 2 sayings that sound different, but similar: "Stand up and walk, keep moving forward. You've got two good legs, so use them, you're strong enough to make your own path."

And here's the 2nd saying: "No matter how many times life tries to gets you down, you always have to get back up."

Hey hiw are you doing?

I see you're still coming online, so that's encouraging. I hope things have improved for you. All I can really say is that suicide is never an option. Don't ever go there. I'll be very blunt and say it is the selfish way out, because whether you believe it or not, there are many people in your life who care about you, and also need you. If you end your own life, all it does is show that you really don't care about those people. Yes, I'm being blunt, is it because I'm a cold, mean person? No, it is because I've had someone in my own family try to commit suicide 3 times before, and it put themself, and all of us, in a very bad place. This was years ago. Suicide affects everyone around you. Now, I will give you some advice, you might roll your eyes, but when I was little, I got really sick, going around the house with a bucket, because I was throwing up so much, and nothing was helping, the only thing that would make it feel better was when my mom would read the book of psalms to me from the bible. If you are having depression to the point of suicide, get a bible, and read it. Like I said, psalms is a good book, but you can really read anywhere. Just try it. I'm a christian, and I've had experience where I'm feeling scared or depressed, or anxious, and I start reading the bible, and it makes you feel His peace. Take this: "YHWH bless you and keep you; YHWH make His face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; YHWH lift up His countenance (face) upon you and give you peace. (Numbers 6:24-26) and in Zephaniah 3:17 "YHWH your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by His love; He will exult over you with loud singing."

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