“go all Henry David Thoreau up in here”

I think I need a vaccay from people. like, from all humans. even Brian. go all Henry David Thoreau up in here or something.

I used to camp all the time. year round, and as much as possible. I would volunteer with organizations too. a lot of my time used to go to volunteerism.

I mean, I have a pessimistic, natural inclination to assume the worst about a given individual. but I used to at least allow them enough room to hang themselves. these days, I can hardly wait to pull a handle of judgment to drop people to a doom they possibly didn’t rightly deserve.

and those aforementioned communes with nature or surrounding myself with heartfelt people — they would reset the innate hatred I have within. they would fill me with beauty, awe, and hope. and then I had the energy to go tackle the harsh reality that is life.

but with no vacations to remind myself what matters, with no groups or friends also struggling to focus on the light, I feel … I just feel hopeless, adrift. like I’m just barely staying afloat in life instead enjoying the waves at a beach.

I will make it a point to find a volunteer group again. I will make it a point to go camping again soon (once it fucking warms a little, because I am a pussy in the cold). and I will make it a point to write again … even if there is no one remaining to read anything.

Advertisements

WELL HELLO, CRAZY NOISE

WELL HELLO, CRAZY NOISE!!
> THANKS FOR CHECKING IN.

SO YOU THINK WE SHOULD SLICE OUR ARMS AND BLEED, JUST TO PROVE WE ARE ALIVE?
> okay.

SO WE SHOULD SLIT OUR NECK ACROSS ITSELF TO SHOW OUR OWN STRENGTH AND DETERMINATION?
> sounds great.

OR MAYBE I CAN JUST JUMP INTO TRAFFIC, DRIVE INTO THE ONCOMING, OR SHOOT OURSELVES OFF THE CLIFF.
>  perfect plan.

_____________________________________________

did you disagree?  because I didn’t?

I suspect tomorrow will be fine.

but I’m seriously running out of “bad days” that don’t get logged as “last days”.

____________________________________________

SEE ALSO:

the Final Day is ideal,

desired,

perfect,

heavenly,

HOPE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

please allow it to come soon … or even better ASAP…..

distracted from the Darkness

I have been having something scheduled for almost everyday.  back to my old “keep busy to distract the Mind” trick.  because when I’m not doing something, when I don’t have music or work or people to distract me, my thoughts get Dark again.  “I wonder what would happen if I drove into oncoming traffic.”  “I wonder how long of a fall it is off that bridge.”  “I wonder it would feel like to have my wrists slit open.”  Dark, dangerous thoughts.

thoughts I will not act on, granted.  at least, not while properly medicated.  and this is why I take my medication.  this is why I have such a cocktail that I must take — to keep from obeying the Dark thoughts.

because life is generally pointless.  I’m an American, and I’m watching my country fall apart at the hands of a bigoted piece of shit.  who, mind you, is also trying to start a war with another country.  hurricanes and earthquakes are destroying this continent.  and that’s just the fun stuff on a large scale.

everyday, people are hurting others.  sure, there’s a lot of good stuff and “pay it forwards” that happen too, and these just don’t show up in the stories as often.  I understand that; I took journalism classes.  however, I can’t handle the input of only negative shit every day.

and then there’s the Darkness in my mind, a force that somehow prevents me from experiencing joy sometimes.  a power that mutates comments into insults and gazes into glares.  a force that has me totally retracting from my partner for fear of worsening his life.

yeah, that’s the third level.  the personal level.  I can’t recall what exactly set it off, or if it was a single thing at all.  but I’ve started pushing Brian away some.  I don’t really know what to say on this matter.  I just feel like trusting him make me weak, and I need to stand on my own some.  I’ve become a limp noodle.  I need to act as if there is no net beneath me.

I have no witty or insightful closing for this post.  I’m tired and hungry, and I can’t think.  so I’ll end just like this.

on how depression applies to my current job

I am finally reading posts again. it’s made not crying on my commutes more doable.

to an entry of someone whose writings I admire greatly, I commeneted as follows:

one thing my various doctors and therapists always told me was how with mental disorders, what something is now is how it seems to have always and will always be. for example, then in a manic phase, things seem great and you feel like you could take on the world — and you can take it on tomorrow too, and the next day, and the next … and even months from now, you’ve got this shit in the bed and will never have a sub-par day again. the “sick mind”, as we and it are sometimes called, struggles to separate now from forever. this is the same on the depression front too. and it all really sucks ass.

I would love to take my own advice here, but I think it’s unrelated to my work concerns. I know that eventually I will get the hang of it, and I may even eventually prove to be really badass at it. but it’s legitimately the “right now” about which I’m concerned.

I feel as if I have so few Spoons these days (see Christine Miserandio’s “The Spoon Theory”). I do’t have enough to ensure this shit day after day, and still try to function on top of that. I even told a friend last night how coming home and crying for an hour or so after work (as I have been doing) is generally helpful im the emotional sense, but it requires much more Spoons than just cutting would. sure, it allowa me well enough to move on with life lethargicly that evening. but the next moening, I am still drained and hopeless. just getting out of bed costs Spoons that I will need on the job.

and as I told Brian last night,this is a special kind of self-hatred that I have by the end of each day. this is the kind the occurs because you’ve let people down. it’s one thing, for example, when you are going to fail a class because you suck at something. but when I was teaching, the notion of letting all those students down was devestating. similarly, I am going to end up destroying this law firm’s books. they don’t deserve that; and I can’t help but feel that I deserve this employment chance.

a2z: Hopelessness

April 2015’s Blogging A to Z:
Hopelessness

 

I’m a pessimist.  I don’t mean that so much in I see bad and horrible things all around me.  on the contrary, I go out of my way to try to both find and create goodness.  I admire the small child bouncing through the puddles in a parking lot; I smile at complete strangers who are humming to themselves; I extend warm thank-yous to those who hold the door open for me.  but I am a pessimist.  I assume that horrible, terrible things are what are most likely.  not always promised, just likely.

this pessimism increases the strength of my depression.  and my depression, especially when unmedicated, breeds hopelessness.  I no longer merely predict things will turn out poorly; I now expect them to.  and I expect them to turn out horribly with such sureness that I am surprised and in disbelief when it doesn’t.  but before we get to that point, while are still waiting the demise of justice or happiness, I become hopeless.

I become so hopeless, I don’t even want to want the good anymore.  the hopelessness yields this sense of despair and void, an emptiness that strips me of all effort and care and love and desire.

and that’s where I’m at these days.  it’s a numb pain; it’s like the throbbing of a wasp sting after the venom has passed.  you know it should hurt more; but you don’t care, because the poison’s already in your system.

in many of the scholarly pieces I’ve read over the years, it seems depression precedes hopelessness.  many with depression will just mull in their sorrows; it’s not until they reach a point of actual hopelessness and true despair that they ever take any actions to either A] get better or B] get gone.  in many of my research on my more morbid interests, Dr. Aaron Beck’s work reappears.  as per this topic, I can bring up the Beck Hopelessness Scale.  it was created back in 1974, so the assessment is very simple.  but if one is being honest with himself, he’ll see if he’s in line for a path of trouble, or just having a rough ride.

for shit’n’giggles, let’s take it right now:

  1. I look forward to the future with hope and enthusiasm.:  false; I am fearful.
  2. I might as well give up, because there’s nothing I can do to make things better for myself.:  false; I could run away and start a new life somewhere else.
  3. when things are going badly, I am helped by knowing that they can’t stay that way forever.:  false; even if they were to get better, they would only grow worse all over again.
  4. I can’t imagine what my life would be like in ten years.:  true; I’m struggling with more than ten weeks from now.
  5. I have enough time to accomplish the things I most want to do.:  false; I feel overwhelmed, which causes a lack of productivity, which yields a sense of additional overwhelmation (can “overwhelm” be a noun?).
  6. in the future, I expect to success in what concerns me most.:  false; I will never return to grad school, and I will never get published.
  7. my future seems dark to me.:  true; it looks like hell.
  8. I happen to particularly lucky, and I expect to get more of the good things in life than the average person.:  true; I am actually very lucky, all things considered.
  9. I just don’t get the breaks, and there’s no reason to believe that I will in the future.:  true; conversely, I’m also very unlucky; things are rarely just “normal” for me.
  10. my past experiences have prepared me well for my future.:  false; I have no idea how to be an adult or responsible without special treatment.
  11. all I can see ahead of me is unpleasantness, rather than pleasantness.:  false; I expect some of both; though I predict more of the former.
  12. I don’t expect to get what I really want.:  true; but largely because I don’t even know what that is anymore.
  13. when I look ahead to the future, I expect I will be happier than I am now.:  false; I honestly dodoubt it.
  14. things just won’t work out the way I want them to.:  true; though more accurately, things tend to not go as I prepared.
  15. I have great faith in the future.:  false; I have faith in very little.
  16. I never get what I want, so it’s foolish to want anything.:  true; though I think this more about ever being happy.
  17. it is very unlikely that I will get any real satisfaction in the future.:  true; I will always be miserable, even with all my numerous blessings.
  18. the future seems vague and uncertain to me.:  true; 100%.
  19. I can look forward to more good times than bad times.:  false; not at all.
  20. there’s no use in really trying to get something I want, because I probably won’t get it.:  false; I often get what I want — except peace.

scoring is one point per “negative” response (and these statements make it rather clear in which direction “negative” is, lol), though an actual key is provided to the staff member.  scores 0 to 3 suggests no issues; 4 to 8 denotes mild hopelessness, but nothing alarming; 9 to 14 suggests moderate hopelessness, and the staff member is to recommend treatment; a score of over 15 suggests the individual is a suicide risk.

so let’s add me up: 1+0+1+1+1+1+1+0+1+1+0+1+1+1+0+1+1+1+1+0 = 15.  okay, that’s disgustingly coincidental.  I was hoping for a 13 or something.  you know, something to suggest I hadn’t given up yet, but was close, lol.

and again, this is an slightly antiqued and incredibly over-simplified approach to determining one’s level of hopelessness.

besides, if we’re actually hopeless, we don’t need a test to tell us so.  it’s something you feel in your core, deep into your bones.

 

Hopelessness

~REBLOGGED~ One Order of Darkness, Please!

beautiful piece on why sometimes we stay Ill.

my two favourite bits are quotes below:

Darkness is, in my attempt to explain, not the lack of light. It is not the lack of love or the lack of compassion but rather the lack of hope. Darkness in my mind is a simple place without much adornment that allows me to feel not just sad, not just depressed, but allows me to fall deep into my own internal soul and put the world far away. It is a place that gives me permission to not have all the answers and it is a place that gives me permission to not have to be what all those I love hope for me to be.

My darkness which makes bottle of pills very attractive also blocks out much of the world. There is no expectations in this darkness but rather the need to be nothing.

The Truth Ache

secretI will let you in on a secret. I will tell you a secret about myself that I don’t talk about, that I don’t think about, but live with. I am sorry to say it isn’t a dirty little secret nor will anyone be that astonished. It may not be understood by anyone, but it is my reality. And the secret is…I like the darkness.

Let me back up a couple of steps so that you can understand. There are important steps to know when coming not only to terms with your own mental illness but when you have teach others about the diseases. Trying to entertain while still teaching about a subject I know like the back of my brain without scaring my family (and husband) out of their wits is difficult. There are certain truths that you have to lightly touch on and others that you simply have…

View original post 1,359 more words

maybe we won’t make it out alright

:: TRIVIAL WARNING ::
in retrospect, this entry is all the fuck over the place.  sorry about that.
um, i’d love to give you a map or outline so you could follow along;
but i got lost in re-reading it for grammar and spelling errors m’self.
so yeah, that’s no-go.  :/  good luck on your own, though.

i’m getting really hopeless.  like, really hopeless.  as in i included the words “my wanting to die in the near future” in a recent email to my psychiatrist.  i’ve been off any “real” anti-depressants since November when Townsend took over my medication.  and i’ve been off even their stuff since mid-January.  i mean, i’m on the valproic acid, which is an anti-epileptic medication that many bipolar people take because it also stabilizes moods.  but that doesn’t actually improve my mood; it just means i’m fairly consistently depressed.

i’m getting lost in my Thoughts.  i get sick trying to figure out how people can just be okay with life, wondering why not everyone is suicidal.  i can’t fathom the idea that there exists people who aren’t hurting internally all the time, who aren’t falling apart completely.  i realise that many are wounded and just hide it well.  but those who talk of hope and send words of encouragement — from where do they get that?, from where does that come??  i am so far down that i literally cannot comprehend that some people do not suffer like this.

apparently thinking about killing oneself on a daily basis is not the norm.  apparently wanting to rip your skin apart or take pills until you pass out is not typical.  apparently the average person does not have to spend 15-45 minutes in the shower every morning talking themselves into enduring yet another day of living instead of committing suicide.

i honestly don’t get it.  i can’t understand.  it’s like asking a blind person to imagine the colour red.  wtf?

the amazing Allie Brosh of Hyperbole and a Half created a post about her own struggles with depression (one of two that i reference and quote all too often).  at one point, she explained it as follows: “But trying to use willpower to overcome the apathetic sort of sadness that accompanies depression is like a person with no arms trying to punch themselves until their hands grow back.  A fundamental component of the plan is missing and it isn’t going to work.”  and it’s true.  the brain is what’s broken, and it’s the same tool that needs to be used to fix the problem.

by the shadows of the night, i go.
i move away from the crowded room,
that sea of shallow faces masked in warm regret.
they don’t know how to feel; they don’t know what is Lost.

things have gotten worse over the years.

i mean, other than having Brian and my cat, i’m in no better place than i was when i graduated college.  in 2008, i left UL a success.  i was popular, well-liked, had an incredibly high paying career (for someone of my age and experience), had my own apartment, etc.  within the next six months, i got Zero.  i love that furball.  in 2010, Brian and i started dating.  but we had been courting long before that.  he’s really enriched my life and has gotten me through some tough times.  i couldn’t have survived without him.

but every other aspect of my life has fallen apart.  i’m more in debt than ever (more hospital bills, student loan, credit card debt, two DUI debts to parents, etc).  every day, i’m learning there’s more about my body that’s falling apart — therein more doctors to see and more medications to take.

i’ve stopped writing.  i hardly read.  i’m just … i’m not Creating anything anymore.  that used to be my sole drive for waking up every day.  and now, i can’t even manage that much.

i’m still in Lafayette.  i’m still in fucking Louisiana.  i’m still in the south.  i mean, i love the south.  i’ll be a southern girl until i die.  but i feel like i won’t really understand what that means until i’m not in the fucking south anymore.  and nigh everyone who’s lived anywhere else says how different Lafayette is from the norm.  HOW?  i want to know more!  i’m getting fucking cabin fever in this damned city.  legit claustrophobia is going to set in soon.

gad, this is all shit i’ve bitched about a thousand times before.  like another fucking post is going to change anything.  this is ridiculous.  i just don’t know what else to do!

lost in the Darkness of a land
(where all the Hope that’s offered is)
Memories of being taken by the hand.
(and we are led into the sun)
but i don’t have a hold on what is Real.
(and we can only try)

what is there to Give or to Believe?

i’m getting so far Down into this, that i don’t think i want to get Better anymore.  because 1] it’s too fucking difficult and may not be worth the effort; and 2] i don’t think i deserve it anymore.  i mean, my psychiatrist doesn’t charge me for most of my visits and gives me as many free samples as he can.  my friends are the most supportive and loving people i know.  even coworkers and mere acquaintances offer their assistance and sympathy.  i’ve got a good job; i have a car (though no license); i have an apartment with someone who loves me incredibly; my cat is great; i’m learned and well spoken; i’ve got excellent work experience; my family would do anything for me; et cetera.  yet i keep fucking everything up.

i’m a selfish, whiny bitch.  i want the world to revolve — not around me, but — because of me.  i want to be the best at everything, yet i don’t want things to be so easy for me that i’ll be bored.  i want to overcome my flaws and weakness without having to endure the patience for it.

i don’t deserve to be Happy, to get Better, to have Hope.

i deserve this Pain and Suffering.  and i deserve to endure it all forever.

i want it all to go away; i want to be Alone.
Sympathy’s wasted on my hollow Shell.
i feel there’s nothing left to Fight for,
no reason for a Cause.
and i can’t hear Your voice,
and i can’t feel You near.

would you like to know how pathetic this is and i have actually become?  i am honestly to the point that i hope the sentencing goes very poorly and that i do, indeed, lose my job.  i hope that the medicine doesn’t work, that life doesn’t get better, and that everyone abandons me.  because i’m ready to fucking Leave this shit; but i worry that i’ll only do so after everything’s truly fallen apart.

how fucking selfish is that?

i wanted a Change,
knowing all i could do was Try.
i was looking for some[thing].

as of the 2009-2010 decade transition period, the suicide success rate was 1:33.  that’s not promising.  :/

lyrics courtesy of Sarah McLachlan’s “Lost”