Tuesday 27 November 2012

Down And Out

I'm pretty much right back where I started.

     I'm scheduling an appointment with a psychologist. Depression is winning again, and I've reached the point where I just don't care. I know I'm in a dangerous place when I stop caring. All the fight has gone out of me. I just want to lay down in a quiet place and die with no one watching me.

     Anyone who doesn't have depression will never understand this. I've been depressed my entire life, and most days, I've kept a good handle on it. But all my life, I've had this feeling that I'm going to end up killing myself. It's not a fear...its not something I'm afraid of. It's more like a knowledge that someday, I am going to pull the trigger and actually hit myself. Or take the pills and not throw them up. Or starve myself and not be forced to consume something. Or tie a rope around my neck and not be interrupted. Or have the guts to actually cut my wrists instead of everywhere else because I know that this time, there won't be consequences tomorrow to worry about. So this time, I'm going to a professional to find out why my first memory is feeling alone in a room full of people. To find out why that feeling never went away. To find out why there's that underlying--sometimes overwhelming--feeling of hopeless despondency no matter how good my life is. To find out why I've been so convinced all my life that someday, I'll stop being able to handle myself and take care of my own biggest problem: myself.
     I thank God that none of my wonderful, concerned friends read what has become my online journal. This is a chronicle of my descent into madness. Of the labyrinth of sickness that is my mind. Because I am sick. This is a terminal illness, and this is every day inside my head.
    
     For anyone out there who wonders if there is hope: as surely as you breathe. If there is help: without a doubt. But to get help, you've got to care. To see hope, you've got to care. Today: I don't care. But I hope you do, because life is beautiful, and you are worthy. There is enough oxygen and sunshine for everyone. There is no selfishness in owning what is yours: your own life. Take it. It's yours. Yepp, I definitely need help.
     Hang on,
            Ness