Why I feel like I can’t go on

For anyone I talked to yesterday thanks for listening, I had a pretty severe breakdown and everyone I talked to listened and empathized without trying to cheer me because I fucking hate that. I think it was clear that I was freaking out so badly that telling me to buck up or keep my hopes up would have been pointless.

So anyway I’m writing this to solidify, clarify, and record a lot of the things I said yesterday to a lot of different people.

A big part of why I was so upset was that I had let my retaining wall slip. I learned years ago that if I sleep well, eat three meals a day, take my vitamins, and always have positive short and long term goals that I’m a lot less susceptible to major depressive episodes and so I called that routine my retaining wall. With the two jobs, and job switching and two musical projects on the go I let the routine fall apart with really realizing it. And the thing is when I’m hungry and tired and need vitamin D I don’t think “Hey I’m hungry and tired and need vitamin D” I think “Life is meaningless and I’ll always be broken.”

I’m sure a lot of people would say they hate going to work and all the other mundane things of life but they want things like a roof over there head and food and stuff. They see the exchange of value and go through life like a normal person. If you want home-made cake then you have to do the baking, right? The thing is I don’t want the cake. I don’t care about the roof over my head or the food in belly or the clothes on my back. I don’t want any of them. I don’t want to be alive. I’ve kept going for other people. I remember in the long long ago there would be times when something good would have after a period of being suicidal and I’d feel glad I hadn’t died but that stopped happening. Even at the best of times I still wish I had died, or will die soon. So I’m slaving away to bake all these cakes and never get to eat them and the people I give them to aren’t grateful. Because really no one gives “Thanks for not killing yourself” cards. I’ve built the myth of my normalcy and I shouldn’t blame people for believing it.

But the lie of it all gets tiring and eventually I resent the normal parts of my life. Instead of living to save pain for people who care about me I resent them for not caring that I’m in so much pain. In the marathon of life I’m dragging this huge boulder and feeling judged by the people holding pebbles.

So when the wall is down and life feels overwhelming my reaction is often irresponsible. I’ll spend a few days doing whatever I feel like and life will fall apart. The thing is: I don’t get suicidal because life falls apart, I let life fall apart when I’m feeling suicidal.

My life is a broken glass I’m holding in both hands to maintain the shape and I just want to be able to put it down and walk away sometimes.

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Singer/songwriter, jerk.

Posted in Depression & Suicide, Uncategorized

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