so. I had a pretty severe anxiety attack this morning. I called in sick to the library and cancelled my English class. I hyperventilated, kicked a hole in the wall, cut, pulled out hair. it was one a pretty bad one.
and then I went to sleep. for four hours. on the floor in the EMF Room (our office).
this was one of those cases where it was really good that Brian was around. because things could’ve gotten really bad. like … the regrettable kind of bad.
anyway. I didn’t get back up and exist until Kiera came over around 6:30pm. she gave me a much needed and very incredible massage. then we hung for a while. she said it’s not a “sending off” present, but a “keep going” present, lol.
that’s three weeks in a row that a missed a day of work because I couldn’t manage to exist. this can’t keep happening. I’m going to run out of Sick Leave. 😦
I don’t remember a time when life was this hard. I really don’t. I mean, in the past, it got better before it got this bad. something would happen that would step in the way. a hospital, a person, an event, a job, a doctor, medication — something.
Tuesday at work, my friend and I had a good chat. a legitimate question one of us asked the other was “did you manage to get out of bed today?” that led into him talking about his Demons:
You know how sometimes you can’t get the demons to go away? You know they are lying to you, but you just can’t get them to shut the fuck up, and they just consume every thought in your head?
I could relate, and told him so. so we each discussed what our Demons said. here’s mine:
I’ll never be happy. I’ll never be healthy. I’ll stay this weight forever and only gain more. I’ll never sleep well. will never not be in pain in my back, knees, ankle, shoulders, and head. I’ll never manage my eating disorder. I’ll always remain a raging alcoholic. I’ll never awake rested. I’ll always wish to be dead.
and if I were Stronger, Better, more in Control, more intelligent, more determined, more organised; if I wanted it more, if I actually wanted to get better — I could. but these things aren’t true. so the above will remain that way forever.
eventually the conversation of suicide came up. I said:
I hold steady the belief that I should have committed suicide when I considered it in middle school, or even high school. but it’s too late now. my Accountability level is too high.
my life will never be my own. I will always be alive because other people require it. as such, it’s not mine. which makes me even less eager to bother with anything in it.
In the last three years, the only thing that has stopped me is the mess I make for other people to clean up, though this last weekend, it was the fact that when I put the knife to my wrist, I couldn’t cut into it without going through the tattoo which isn’t even done yet.
I don’t want to leave debt for my ex wife. I don’t want anyone to blame themselves.
but again — living/staying alive for others, not for yourself. it makes every day so difficult.
I feel like I have to isolate myself from everyone, get out of debt, and then I can do it.
It makes every day hard.
he later added:
When people tell me they want me to live, I usually ask them why they want me to keep suffering.
If someone isn’t helping me get better, what right do they have to say I should suffer because of their disinterest in me staying alive?
I admitted to him that I would never tell someone to not kill themselves. I may ask them to postpone or wait, hold out a little longer. but I would never say, “don’t do it.” why should I even suggest that notion that my desire for him to live is more important than his agonising pain or pursuit of release/happiness. that’s an incredibly selfish thing to do. and I hate when others do it to me.
anyway. so we talked for a while about “to be or not to be”. eventually he noted that he doesn’t want to end up back in the hospital. I expressed otherwise, and he asked why. I told him “no responsibilities, close to Freedom as you can get … I enjoyed it. and people finally recognised the severity of my situation and stopped blaming me for a disease, versus decisions.”
I think it would help, honestly, going back to the hospital. I mean, it would be different this time — I’d have to foot the bill, not my parents; and it would be with adults, not other children. so I’m not digging those two changes, lol.
I’m just so tired, guys. I’m ready to be done.