When The Sun Still Rises

Misc_clouds_santa_clarita

It’s the morning, and I can see the clouds outside my window. They look still and unchanging, as if someone painted them on the sky rather than them being a vital part of it. I wonder if the clouds looked back at me, through my little window, if they would say I look like a painting instead of a living thing.

I thought this sun would never rise, readers. Yesterday as I spent literally hours staring at the walls, thinking about all the cuts I could make, all the mistakes I’ve made; I believed today wouldn’t come. Instead, tears came, hard and unstoppable and loud. After hours of silence I couldn’t stop sobbing.

I’ll be honest with you now. I think the best thing for me and for the people in my life would be for me to just die. But I don’t have the courage. As much as I have trouble believing that things will get better, there’s a small, small part of me that is desperate for them to. I don’t want to throw away my life when so many don’t get that choice. But at least they were happy while they were alive.

I reached out to Fred again. I left him a voicemail, sobbing and telling him that I didn’t know what to do, that I needed him….he never got back to me. “He’s not the same person you fell in love with,” Caitlin told me. “Yeah,” I whispered. “But I still wish he cared. I still wish he loved me.” My life is at a pivotal point, readers. All I want is to go back in time, before I knew Fred was cheating on me, back when I was happy. But I can’t go back, I can only go forward. I have to start over. Because there’s nothing I can hold on to, except my life. And the thing is, no matter how many people tell me that I am important I am never going to believe it until the day when I can tell that to myself.

I am selfish, readers. I spend all this time on my blog writing about my repressed feelings and my shitty decisions. I cry and cut myself and call old exes instead of putting that energy into the world, to make it better. I used to be a good person. Now I’m just a person. I use relationships like lifeboats or security blankets so I can put my time and energy into someone else’s happiness, rather than trying to fix my own. But people change. People leave you and don’t pick up the phone when you are suicidal and crying. And there’s nothing you can do but watch it happen.

I need to start eating again, and actually taste my food. I need to take more walks outside and look at the sky. I need to stop going on dates with strangers and letting them use me (or my body) so I can feel useful again. I need to create things from my own two hands so I can see that I am capable of doing good things. I need to stop thinking that dying will clean up the mess I’ve made.

I wish I was a kid again. I know everyone says this when they are sad, but when I was a kid I was so good at being alone. I was alone all the time, and it was fine. Now I can’t even spend a whole day alone without  the depression kicking in. I want to be self-sufficient, I want to not need people as much as I do now.

I like the idea of dying because I know the holes I would leave in my classes, my job, my family, even my friends, would close easily. Almost as if I was never there. And the pain I might cause others by committing suicide would fade, become dull, and their lives would make more room for people who could treat them better, for happiness and love.

I remember being at outpatient and checking the ‘suicidal feelings’ box each day. I remember the drive to the hospital, and thinking about all the people who I had to hide my visits from. I remember looking at the sky and feeling broken, but relieved that I could still feel something.

I don’t know what my life will become, or how long it will last, but I’m looking at the sky, readers. And I’m trying to feel something.

Advertisements

About diagnosemylife

Okay, if I can't keep all this stuff about my life in my head, how do you expect me to shove it in this little box?

Posted on 10/18/2015, in This Whole "Life" Thing and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. Hi. I found you through Rob. He nominated you for his “five” challenge, and me too. I haven’t been able to think of five this or five that so far, so I haven’t done it, but I very much appreciate his thinking of me!

    It’s rotten that you feel so rotten. I’m sorry, and although I can never say that I know how YOU feel, because I’m not you, I live in my own version of hell, so I can relate.

    I’m a lot older than you, I think. I’m 62. I can’t wait to die. If I didn’t have a child, I would have done it a long time ago.

    I got through my college years by doing everything at warp speed, running, aerobics, martial arts, dancing, dating/fucking, working, studying…getting addicted to cocaine, getting un-addicted to cocaine…all for the purpose of pushing off the blackness that hovered over my head like a buzzard.

    Every time I mention suicide on my blog I get the usual reaction from my beloved readers…you know the reaction I’m talking about. I just wanted to leave you a note from someone who understands what it is to be chronically suicidal, to be alone, to keep living this bleak existence that I personally would not call “life” by any means. I do not suggest or encourage anyone to take their own life. Here I am, having been miserable for 62 years, and still alive. I have no answers, and increasingly, no questions. Just putting one foot in front of the other, setting little goals for each day, sometimes accomplishing them. I hope things get better for you. I hope you buy a punching bag (the big body bags work best) to kick and thrash when you feel like cutting. Try it, it might work. Sometimes it has helped me, to turn the anger and pain further out than the skin. Just something that has helped me, not trying to give unsolicited advice! I hate it when people try to tell me, O, if you just take these vitamins everything will be sweetness and light. Bullshit. One person can never know what another is feeling, let alone “what will make them happy.” The best we can do is to say, I’m here for you, I care about you, I care that you exist.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: