Category: depression

The Universe Is A Dick

Published on by Spasian

I’m typing all of this from my phone because even though my desk is only about 10 feet away my brain is telling me to chill out and just lay in bed.

I’m a very wound up person. It’s gotten worse as I’ve gotten older. I’ve lost patience with people and I don’t want to be around them unless it’s work or family. I can’t stand the small talk and the fake conversations. I’m really angry and annoyed.

And I’m thisclose to giving up on life.

Please. Before you call 911 and report me for being suicidal, just remember that I have suicidal thoughts. It comes from my depression which used to be mild a year ago and then turned into major.

I think life is another person who enjoys picking on people and see how much it would take until they crumble. Growing up, I didn’t show emotions most of the time. I didn’t let my mother see me upset when she got upset. My lower lip didn’t quiver and I could feel my eyes dilating to where they were probably just black. This is how I learned to show people that I can’t be broken. So when life is fucking with me, I dig my heels in and refuse to fall apart.

But there are times when I feel like I should fall apart. Just to make myself feel human. Because when shit hits the fan I’m stoic. I don’t react. Inside, I’m screaming and I’m angry. On the outside, I’m that really calm person directing people to the exit during a fire drill.

Please don’t ask me to direct people to the exit during a fire drill or a real fire.

So here we are, life is kicking my ass again. I’m not mad. Maybe because I’ve gotten so used to it. And I’m not just talking about the shit I’ve done to put me in certain predicaments, I’m also talking about people who have shit on me in the past. Some of them have to bear the responsibility of why I am the way I am.

I’m not a people pleaser. I’m not one to nod and agree to everything. I’ve learned that if you let people walk all over you or jerk you around you set a precedent for everyone else to do the same. I’ve stood up for myself and got in trouble but at the end of they day, at least I didn’t take shit from anyone. Maybe that attitude is why I don’t really associate with a lot of people. I can count the number of friends I have with one hand and one of them is my sister. That attitude may be the reason why people don’t fuck with me at all. But I’ve also learned that other people’s opinion of me is none of my business.

Maybe there’ll be brighter days ahead. Maybe something will change the way I feel about the universe and everything else in it. But for now, let me be dark and angry because I deserve to at least feel something even if it feels like my heart is being crushed and my blood is boiling.

“I Don’t Want To Be My Self Anymore”

Published on by Spasian

Back in 2012, I was admitted into the hospital. I started writing on my journal. This was from Day 1:

I’m in the psych ward. Sucks that I’m not allowed to use my cellphone or my iPad but this gives me a good reason to use this journal.

Stress was piling up over the last few weeks. It just seemed like I couldn’t catch a break it felt like I was pulled from every direction. I thought I could hold my feet firmly to the ground but last night, I had a complete mental breakdown.

My marriage is very important to me. It is the foundation of my livelihood; it’s what keeps me from losing all hope. Jason [Jeremy’s brother] decided that since he couldn’t take Jeremy away from me, he used me as a reason to finally set out what he wanted to do. I know the asshole doesn’t like me, but why lie? Why make up something that I supposedly said? Never in my life have I ever lied on someone. I have done some fucked up shit in the past but I know my limits. And making up stories about someone is never cool. It bothered me so much that Jeremy believe him. Then came the devastating news that separation is justified because I am causing a rift between he and his family. It also came as a final decision that he was abandoning me like my mother did.

Sidenote: If I had my phone on me, I would be tweeting this shit I have seen so far all day. Kinda makes me realize that I’m not that crazy after all.

So I panicked – swallowed a handful of pills. Everything after that has been a blur – from going to the hospital, now here.

Maybe I needed this. Maybe this could help me after all. My stress management and coping skills are awful. I am constantly anxious and worrying about everything. The littlest things can easily set me off and worst of all, I feel like people are purposely giving me a hard time. the thoughts of people coming out to get me started to consume my every day being.

Jeremy just came to visit me. It was heartbreaking but it helped me a lot. Why did I ever take this for granted? How could I think that my husband never loved me when he has put up with my shit for the last 9 years? Seeing him cry was painful. He was so worried about what to tell our children. I really don’t know either. But I feel good knowing that they’re taken care of. But I know eventually that they will start asking Dad questions about where I am.

I miss Michael and Camden. I miss Ginger and Bob. Jeremy brought some stuff for me and I could smell home. So I spoke to them on the phone and they didn’t seem worried so I’m glad. Jeremy is doing a great job handling the daily chores at home. He’s even taking care of the dog and the cat. This eases my anxiety a little bit because I used to think the household can’t be ran without me.

This place is very interesting. Full of characters. Apparently, I’m in the wrong unit as this unit is for people with aggression issues. There’s actually a unit for people with just depression and I really hope they move me there. I think I can get through this easier if I’m not around these disturbed folks. They’re mostly nice, but a few are a bit scary.

I can’t wait for Jeremy to bring me my cupcake from Frosting. It is such an awesome treat especially after what happened in the last 24 hours.

My goal is to get better mentally and emotionally. Whatever horrible that happened in the past. I need to start living, not just existing. I need to stop thinking about what could happen and always think positive, not matter how difficult it may be. I always think of the worst and I end up reacting the wrong way and that’s how I ended up here. But I’m going to honestly believe that being here may help me and I have to allow them to. I cannot continue to hurt Jeremy this way and I am absolutely aware that my kids will suffer without a mother.

I know Jeremy may think that this is a temporary fix but I have to prove to him otherwise.

I Wrote A Suicide Note

Published on by Spasian

Because…I don’t know. Because there are days when I’m terrified of tomorrow. Because tomorrow is unpredictable. Unpredictability terrifies me. Because I have so much bad shit going on around me that it’s literally tearing me apart inside. But at the same time, I’m clinging on to whatever sanity I have left and hoping for that proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.

I wrote a suicide note because if I do finally put an end to this “woe is me” life, there are no unanswered questions. It’s right there…the reason why I decided to strip the world of my existence. I wrote the reasons down…people I love wouldn’t have to ask why. The reasons would completely relieve them of what they could’ve done to prevent it. Because the reasons are there to say that there was no way it could’ve been prevented.

I wrote a suicide note because I don’t trust myself. I have been to that point in my life more than once when I tell myself that I’m done. Completely. That point when I’m so terrified to be alone because no one will stop me from swallowing whatever poison I could find. I was alone the last time I was in that dark place…clinging to life…my husband saved me. He didn’t let me die. He drove me to the hospital in tears while I begged for him to turn around and let me go. I didn’t have a suicide note then.

I wrote a suicide note and left it in my wallet to remind myself that I have something to live for. It’s a weird reminder, but it’s a reminder. I open my wallet every single day and every single day it’s a reminder that I am still alive. It’s a reminder that each and every single day, no one else knows what’s in that note. Only me and me alone.