I didn’t jump, but I remember
The long walk to the edge.
Each step felt like a promise;
Each breath felt like a scream.
The relentless drum beat
Counting down my life
Had as its message:
Today; today; today.
I stood there and listened,
As I looked at the rocks far below.
Then I turned and began the journey back.
————————————————————————————————————-
IF you or someone you know is considering suicide:
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:
1-800-273-8255
Reach out.
My friends are encouraged that I seem better. They see me going about my normal life once more and don’t hear me talking about depression now. So the crisis must be over. Right? Wrong. I’ve just stopped waving a big flag that says HELP on it. B/c I saw that all that really did was alarm and frustrate people. It didn’t get me anywhere. I’m still drowning here, on the verge of going under for the last time. But there is no use trying to talk.
So. Still depressed. Still suicidal. I was riding transit today and and feeling so raw, like I had no skin. Peoples’ voices and and noises actually HURT. I was gripping the edge of the seat and thinking, just let me get to the store….I can hide out in produce or something. By the time we did get the grocery, I was almost ready to jump out of the moving bus if I had to do so. Fortunately I didn’t encounter anyone I knew at the store, and it wasn’t very crowded. I knew that I would need time to decompress when I got home, b/c I had a meeting that evening to prepare for. (Time to prepare a face for the faces that you meet.)
I came home. I made a new batch of the olive, fig, and walnut tapenade. (I put some aside to take down to Rick tomorrow. He will be thrilled.) I made the Gazan smashed avocado spread with zhug. (Folks at the FM loved the zhug, btw.) I made socca. And I made a cold jeweled lentil salad with pickled red onion and basil. Ryan came over and took some home. And tomorrow I’m taking some of the labneh I made to Boyd. So the Mayhem Baking and Tea Company is doing quite well.
I have acquired a therapist. I don’t know how he’s going to be, nor how I will pay for him. Not eat, maybe? Get fashionably thinner than I already am? But if I’m not going to give in sooner rather later to the suicidal drumbeat in my head, I need to see SOMEONE. He’s the option available at the moment, doesn’t seem terribly objectionable either as a person or a therapist, so I’ll give him a chance. I have naught to lose but some time and money. Both of which are in short shrift at the moment, but what are I am going to do? Miss P needs me. Someone has to maintain her Instagram account…..
Everything should be going well, right? I just had a birthday celebration last night. Friends took me out. I had a room full of people singing HAPPY BIRTHDAY to me. Good food, well wishes, and great company. Even decent music ( Jack sees to that). I went to the FM this morning, caught the haps and the local buzz, bought my minimum-required produce, and hung out for a bit. My whippet is caught up on stuff til next month. I’m getting ready for company coming from out of town this week.
AND I’m sitting here feeling so desperate. I saw my Pdoc last week. I gave him my manifesto (Standing On The Edge Of A Cliff). I have friends who have other devastating diseases, including cancer. This is comparable, except that it is invisible. (Maybe, Idk.) I don’t talk about how I do most activities while dragging my depression around like a weight around on my back. Or while having the constant refrain of suicidal thoughts playing in the background. If you’ve not ever attempted to act like you’re living a normal life while that’s going on, let me tell you, it’s not fucking easy. Is it any wonder I’m behind on some APEC and FOL assignments? I’m a little distracted right now, sorry.
That I manage to do gross ADLS right now is pretty impressive, never mind that I’m cooking for friends, going to meetings, and making presentations. When I walk to the library, what stops me from “accidentally” standing in front of a car is the thought that I could hurt someone else. Or if I had a train-involved death, that could also traumatize an innocent bystander. All I want is to disappear and cause as little fuss as possible for those around me. I don’t hate myself or anything like that. I was trying to explain this to the Pdoc. I feel a lot of….overwhelming emotional pain and grief right now. IT HURTS to exist. And I’m tired. So tired. I’ve been fighting depression and various physical things ALL OF MY LIFE. (Part of the deal when you are so premature, I know. But still.)
This is another entry that won’t get posted to social media. My birthday is coming up on the 15th. I’ll be 58. Big whoop. I’m not doing anything to celebrate, other than not killing myself. (Little morbid humor here.) I’m giving a few presents to friends, since that’s a thing started in my family. On your birthday, you give stuff to significant others to say “thank you”. People think it’s weird. I don’t care. On FB for my birthday donation org, I requested people donate to the National Suicide Hotline. Fitting, no? I’ve not called during this bout…yet. I’m saving that for my last desperate moments.
So what am I doing now? I tried to resign my position with VA ORG. I was told by the powers that be that they decided to ignore that decision. I informed them that I might show up at meetings now wearing a shirt that bears the words NO RESPECT. Lol. I had an LTE get published. I’ve had meetings out the wazoo. I had to go INTO the library to work, as opposed to working from home. I’ve had 2 friends over to eat, thereby violating my “no millennials” rule I had established a while back. I even went out for a drink. So I’ve been active.
And the entire time I’ve been actively depressed, desperately so. As in on the verge. I’ve found a home for Miss P, should I cease to exist. I’ve given dishes away. I’ve thought about who should get my teaware. I’ve thought about how I would pack everything I own in neat boxes to given to the appropriate organization, if I decided to kill myself. I don’t own much. It would not take long. I could do it in one day. I’ve thought about this.
I’ve been telling people I’m struggling. This really shouldn’t surprise anyone who knows me. I’m not quite there yet. But the drumbeats are getting louder….
This entry won’t get posted to any of my other social media. I’ve learned that no-one wants to hear about depression. I don’t blame them. People have their own IRL problems-illness, family things, plumbing, what have you, that they are dealing with. So I’m just going to keep it here. If someone reads it, fine. IF not, that’s cool too. I’m writing b/c I have no fucking mental health care any longer and this is now my outlet.
I am dealing with major depression. Whaleshit depression, we used to call it back on a site I used to frequent that is no longer extant. That’s the worst kind, when you are in the darkest depths of depression. You aren’t suicidal, b/c that takes TOO MUCH ENERGY. I mean, yeah, it would be NICE IF IT HAPPENED, but I ain’t gonna do anything about it at this point. I can hardly do ADLS right now. Besides, I have the lovely Miss P, who does depend on me. She is currently my tether to this world. (A big burden to place upon a 26 pound whippet, I know.) But if something were to happen to her, I would be MUCH more motivated to finally jump. I’m just SO tired of this.
What has triggered this latest round? Well, aside from usual odd seasonal SAD-related depression that comes on with springtime and the lengthening days (yep-you read that correctly), I’ve had some erstwhile friends do unfortunate acts that have triggered reverberations. Through a series of mishaps involving cracked ribs on my part and me being out of touch for a bit, I evidently offended one and then the other, so that now both are no longer friends with me. Neither would accept my apology or believe this had been anything other than intentional. At least that’s what I THINK occurred. They both ghosted me at the same time, won’t talk to me, so I’m left to conjecture. But this has been very hurtful for me. And I have to encounter one of these dudes on a regular basis at the FM twice a week. Goodness knows what he’s said to other folks about me. Luckily, I’ve been here a LOT longer than HE has. But this has me re-thinking my whole “make new friends” policy. Ugh.
In case anyone is thinking of telling me I need to talk to someone, I know. I’VE TRIED TO FIND MENTAL HEALTH HELP. My doc, who is truly a wonder among physicians, has been trying for several years to find me help. But the problem is: I don’t have Medicaid. OR great private insurance or resources. All I have is Medicare and a very limited income. Which effectively cuts me out being of able to -FIND PDoc; GET to Pdoc, if s/he’s out of town (don’t drive due to seizures); FIND therapist; AFFORD therapist, even if I could find one.
I don’t want to talk to someone who is waaay younger than I am. IF I’ve had more therapy in my lifetime than you’ve been alive (and could probably teach you a thing or two), then really, what’s the point? No offense to millennials or GenZ folk intended here. I just want to talk to someone who’s been around the block. Of course, this narrows an already small field. Fuck. Who am I kidding? There IS no field. I’ve knocked my head against brick walls in this place til it’s bloody. There comes a point where you say, “Enough.” And just give up. That’s what this blog represents. This is me giving up seeking help. I’m not trying anymore. I see that, given my (lack of) resources, I do not GET TO HAVE MENTAL HEALTH CARE HERE. So thank you, insurance company (United Health Care) for making it a fucking “specialist” visit EVERY single time I want to see a therapist. (I tried to appeal this. HAH! Do they not understand how mental health care WORKS???) Thank you, mass transit, for not making transit available for those who need to go to docs outside of this town. (Hello, ADA?) And finally, not being sarcastic here, thank you everyone who HAS tried to help. I appreciate it more than you know.