Relapse 2015

*TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide, depressive thoughts*

This post is difficult. So very difficult.

I’ve been scrolling through websites for the last two hours and can barely recall any of what I read.

I’m in the middle of a relapse right now. Everything got so noisy inside my head that my brain freaked out and shut off all my feelings. I don’t feel anything but emptiness, and I’m all too familiar with what that means for me.

I’m depressed. Again. And I have been for months. I haven’t told anyone yet, I just use my go-to “I’m old and having sleep issues” excuse for never wanting to do anything or being really quiet when my friends finally convince me to tag along. But that’s not it, not really. I’m not sleeping properly because I’m empty. What’s the point of sleeping? I’m only going to be disappointed to wake up again. Every morning when I wake up I have this moment when the thought of swinging my legs over the side of my bed and standing up seems like the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. I think of closing my eyes and never having to open them again and I long for that. Not being a part of this world anymore is so alluring.

The chronic foot pain I’ve had for the last few years is getting increasingly worse. I know at this point I should really see a doctor but I let my health card expire and the steps I have to go through to make it valid again just seem like too much work. It makes me tired just thinking about it.

I can see what it would take to make me feel like a human being again but I can’t find the strength to do it. I just don’t give a shit. At the moment, there’s no light at the end of the tunnel, there’s just more tunnel. I’m exhausted. I don’t want to sleep, I want to stop existing. And that pull is so strong these days that it’s prompted me to write this down. If I write it out, I won’t do it. I can’t do it.

My friend Janelle killed herself last month. It hit everyone hard, naturally, because she was amazing and we all loved her so fucking much. I knew she was depressed. I knew she had struggled like I had struggled because we sat in the back room at work many times and traded “Life Is Shit” battle stories. She had some tales that brought a tear to my eye. And now she’s gone. Her pain is over. I was hit with the full force of my emotions over her death and the switch flipped and my brain shut it down and now I can’t feel anything at all.

Why her? Why not me? Why can’t I?

Jesus Christ, her funeral was hard. Seeing her family and close friends all gathered to say goodbye, watching the slideshow of photos from her life. Being at the spot where she was being laid to rest. It’s not fucking fair. She was 21. And like the self-absorbed asshole I am, all I could think was, “I wonder if they would say similar things at my funeral.” It was eerie, being there. It honestly felt like I was crashing my own funeral with the added pain of knowing I would never get to see my friend again. Not in this life, anyway. And it all feels so pointless. We’re all slowly rotting inside our bodies until the meat breaks down and we stop breathing. Why wait? Why prolong the inevitable? It feels like I’ve already seen where my life is going and with all due respect I’m ready to hit the stop button. I’ve seen enough.

But this is a mood. I know my own mind enough to know when it’s being crazy. I know I shouldn’t do anything when my thoughts are cluttered and scattered and broken like this. I know I could wake up tomorrow in a great mood and have a fantastic day. Life’s like a book and you’re supposed to keep reading until the very end.

Can I tell you a secret though?

I’ve been planning to kill myself since I was 12 years old. My dad died and the world got dark. Now Janelle is gone and the world is even darker. I don’t want to get old and watch as my body fails me. I don’t want to get out of bed every day for the next forty years and experience excruciating pain as it shoots up both my legs, as it has for the last two years. I don’t want to go to the doctor, or pay taxes, shower, brush my teeth, or anything. I just want everything to stop.

I don’t want to be here anymore. I just want to go to sleep and never wake up again.

But I also don’t want anyone to feel the way I felt standing at Janelle’s grave.

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Sorting out my life by writing about it.

3 thoughts on “Relapse 2015

  1. Speak freely? All right. Uncensored. This how a mercenary talks.

    Don’t you fucking dare kill yourself.

    So much of life is horrible – yes. And so much feels empty. Granted.

    To me, too, sometimes. But you kill yourself, and you let the Darkness win. It may all be an Alamo, an Islandhawa, a Wake Island.

    But if you wonder what people will say about you when they’re doing the Powerpoint thing…let them think of you the way they thought of the Texans who just keep fighting with the Deguello ringing in their ears, the Brits who saw the Zulu Impis coming from every direction, the Marines and contractors who drove off the first Japanese attack, knowing they were doomed anyway.

    Let the fat, smug masses look at your pictures and think, Wow. I could NEVER have stood in the face of that. Let that be their memory of you.

    We’re all going to die, and time is coming to get you. Sure. But make the years fucking pay for what they do to you. If the Darkness is coming, let the Darkness fear YOU.

    And maybe some kid will be dragged along to your funeral, and think…Wow. Maybe I COLD be like that.

    No one here gets out alive. But leave a legacy that is so ferocious that the Devil will fear to take you, and the God and His hosts will bow their heads and stand aside while you step through Heaven’s gates, knowing that they stand in the presence of a killer angel.

    I fucking well believe in you, Jennifer.

    1. That means a hell of a lot to me, Andrew.

      I could never put my family through the kind of pain I saw at Janelle’s funeral. Her little sister, too young to fully grasp what was happening and her mom falling apart as they laid flowers on her grave. I would never ever do that.

      The Dark will never win. I’ve just been struggling with it lately and had to get the bad thoughts out, you know how that is. It’s cold inside my head and I recognize my own warning signs. I know I’ll feel better, I just have to keep going.

      Sometimes it doesn’t seem worth the fight, which is why I’m so grateful for my support system. Today I told my mom and sister I’ve been feeling suicidal so they’re aware and they’ve helped remind me of why I haven’t given up yet. Your message has done the same.

      I know it’s just depression playing tricks with my mind. Some days are just harder than others.

      You have my solemn promise that no matter how much I might want to check out, I won’t punch my own clock. I’m too numb to get fired up and kick life’s ass tonight, but I’ll find a way to bring those flames back to life.

      As always, thank you for your words.

      I believe in you too, more than I could ever say.

      1. I will hold you to that promise, dear Jennifer. You are too important to lose. Let me be blunt. You are too important to ME. Your raw honesty and uncompromising wisdom have inspired me to be the best version of myself possible. I think of you every day; you’re my hero.

        I know you won’t quit…and I know that the degree of courage required takes a toll that only you can know. I would protect you from that pain, if I could. Your kindness, in this forum, has given me a safe place to rest when it hurt too much to go on. I would return that favour, that love.

        If you were wondering where I’d gone, I lost a lot of ground, physically…morphine can’t touch it now. That sucks. And I had very limited internet access (and no email access) for a few months, partly because of illness, and partly because of ISP issues (as in, they started raiding my bank account).

        But I’m still alive, even though there are those who tell me to give up. As you can imagine, my reply is both quick, and unprintable, and behooves the person in question to step back, quick.

        You make the world a better place, Jennifer. You make my life better. I am proud be your friend.

Speak freely.

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