Posted in Depression

The Beginning Of The End

Until two or three months ago, I never really thought about suicide. I can’t say it never crossed my mind; human curiosity being what it is, everyone has thought about it on occasion.  I have been depressed for the majority of my life, but it was always something that led to inaction rather than self harm. Even in my pubescent Edgar Allen Poe death and darkness phase, I was never really morbid in the sense that I glamorized death. It was rather a natural child’s reaction to the realization that I could explore the concept, where previously I’d been subjected to adults’ urges to steer young minds away from such sad topics. I’d quote ‘The Conqueror Worm’ for effect, but death was never something I aspired to.

This has been a rough year in a life already too full of them, and something has begun to change. I have not yet been taken over by the desire to kill myself, but for the first time ever I’ve found my mind circling back to the topic on a daily basis. Most often it’s when I’m driving, especially on the way to work. I imagine what would transpire if I yanked the wheel and plowed into a tree (even in my morbid imagination, I would never contemplate killing myself in a way that would injure other drivers).  That tends to get me thinking about the specifics, and I conclude that I’d prefer something less violent and more peaceful. I think about how bad I’d feel for whoever would discover me, though not necessarily bad enough that it puts me off the idea.

Always before, I imagined that if I waited it out, depression would end and my real life would start. This year, I’ve realized that there is no logical reason to assume the future will be better than the past. Logically, I’ve realized it’s the opposite. I’m almost a decade into life in the service industry, with a half completed college degree in a useless major, and a resume that must inspire tears of absolute mirth in the eyes of any remotely respectable employer. Tuition for my university has almost doubled since I dropped out a few years ago. Every time I try to research careers, every article I read seems to relish in ending with an admonition that the job outlook for such-and-such field is utterly bleak and not expected to get better in the foreseeable future. I feel so trapped.

My social anxiety and depression have been feeding on one another and thriving in my seclusion; I do not have a single person I would call a friend, merely coworkers and long-distance acquaintances. I have never felt an emotional closeness to my family, a source of constant bewilderment and anger to them. My reasons to keep fighting back against depression are growing fewer and weaker, and this year marks what I fear could be the beginning of the end.

I watched Office Space the other day, and Peter’s line about every day being the worst day of his life hit me in a way it never had before. Because that’s me, honestly. I go to work, suffer through eight hours where I just want to scream at the top of my lungs until something inside me breaks.  I’ve been sending out my resume but the complete lack of interest makes me feel worse than I did when I wasn’t trying to find another job.  I thought my mental state would improve a bit once I started taking action. When I wasn’t sending out resumes, I could fool myself into thinking escape was just around the corner, if only I’d try. Realizing that I am truly stuck whether I act or not has been a very hard blow to take. Before I had hope, if nothing else. But now every day when I get out of bed, I think, “You’re stuck. You’re never getting out. How did you let this happen to yourself?”

There was a pretty big purge at work last month. The store manager was fired, then two of the more junior managers. Another manager saw the writing on the wall and quit without notice. My department manager–the absolute closest thing in the world I have to a real life friend–has a guillotine looming over his head. I feel constantly sick to my stomach at work. We have two temporary managers who are raking everyone over the coals in order to figure out who should be fired next. I’ve had an almost nonstop low grade headache for weeks now that no amount of Advil can seem to fix. I just want out so bad, but I need another job lined up first, and that doesn’t seem like it will be happening any time soon.

The one bright spot on the horizon has been writing. I’ve made some decent progress on a romance novella after years of being blocked. If I can make some money on the side, I’m hoping that in a year or two I can save enough money–about $20,000 or so–to buy a tiny manufactured home in Big Bear, and get out of retail hell once and for all. As far as dreams and life goals go, a decrepit old trailer on a mountain in the middle of a dessert is kind of a shitty one, but I’ll take any reason to live over none.

Part of me is afraid to hope. I know romance and erotica do extraordinarily well on Kindle–enough to annoy the living shit out of people who write “serious” books, at any rate–and I think I can do a moderate trade once I get a few titles out there. But it’s like the resumes and job search all over again. Until I try it, I at least have hope that I can do well. If I try and fail, I’m worried it’s just going to push me closer to the edge. I have few enough reasons to hang on that the loss of any one of them has the potential to be devastating.

Author:

I blog about social anxiety and depression.

19 thoughts on “The Beginning Of The End

  1. Hang on in there. From one depressive to another I absolutely understand where you are at. I read someting on the internet the other day that explain the various ways of killing yourself and I have made my choice. However, the most important thing it said was don’t do it today – you have plenty of time and it is always an option. The option isn’t dangerous, the option won’t kill you, you can take comfort in the option – just get it in your head that it is an option for another day.

    1. That is so true! Recently, it began to enter my mind adn like you, I was thinking of running into a bridge support or something. I blame it on the anti-depressants I’ve been taking and I’m in the process of phasing them out, swapping them for four mile runs, five nights a week. I used to weigh close-on 250lbs, now I’m 199lbs, havoing put 14lbs back on, wallowing in heartbroken self pity and getting shitfaced drunk to shut-out reality.
      But life is too precious. You/we will all be dead soon enough. Why rush it? I like to think it’s the one thing we all manage to get right eventually! Nature does it so much better than us.
      You say “There’s no logical reason to assume the future will be better than the past?” In the same vein, there’s no logical reason to believe the future won’t be better than the past! I know that suffering from depression you will find that statement hard to swallow. Get out of your job, forget what society says you should be. It is that which is holding you down. Get out and see the world; sign up for some voluntary work oversees. Look in the mirror and ask yourself ‘Who is stopping me?’
      Resume? Forgive me but make the fucker up! Show me someone who doesn’t! Alittle embellishment goes a long, long way; so to, incidentally, does voluntary work overseas.
      You are a good person; you do deserve to be happy and you will be but you’ve got to do it; let nothing get in your way!
      As Winston Churchill once said:
      “Never,
      never,
      never
      give up!

  2. Have you ever thought about quitting your job? It’s easier to do if you don’t have debt, and if you can resist the temptation to buy anything other than necessities like food. The isolated acts of earning and spending money don’t make anybody happier by themselves. The daily grind would make anybody depressed; maybe try to break away from it somehow?

  3. You definitely sound like you have a talent for writing,- screw those “serious” writers. I have hope that you will get published, and more reasons to keep fighting.

  4. I enjoyed reading this last post. I have friends, family, kids and I still feel alone and sometimes like nobody understands me. I finally wrote about it.

  5. Also, think of the experiences you will gain for your writing.
    And sorry about the typo’s, but in the same vein, I couldn’t help giggling at the thought of you “in the middle of a dessert.”
    Custard would be nice!
    : )

  6. I also get like this and i know what youre going through, infact at this certain moment in my life i was very very close to “throwing in the towel” of life and everything. It is hard to find happiness in everything when everything and everyone seems to be hopeless and missarable. I find it easier to not focus on my problems because lets face it, whats the use fixing something that has no hope. I focus on this act i play my “happy” act. making others happy because its something i cannot be myself, also they dont ask questions and so on.
    Hang in there, you are not alone.
    There is “i” in “happiness” even if its making other happy to be happy ourselves.

  7. I just wanted you to know that you are not alone. Socializing and hope don’t come easy for me either. I also think you are a very talented writer, and hope you can find some hope in that. I find that prayer helps me, and I will begin to include you in mine.

  8. I’ve thought about suicide many times over the years and, like Middle Aged Man, I’ve chosen a method. However, at the moment I’m in a good place. It would be nice to get to know you but I don’t want to be to forward and I certainly don’t want to post my email address up on a public blog. So please could you write a post about your interests (beyond writing) and your dreams, and that kind of thing. Maybe? Please?
    Congratulations on your writing progress, It sounds like you’ve found yourself a glimmer at the end of the tunnel. From someone who knows what the tunnel feels like, good luck and best wishes.

  9. I can “feel” you in your writing. I appreciate what you are saying and can empathize. It is brave to be so honest and I encourage you to continue to write,

  10. … I do not know what to say and I do not know what can help you but reading your blog posts has made me feel a lot of sympathy for you. I know my sympathy may not help but I just wanted you to know. It’s important to let people know how we feel, I am sorry you aren’t able to go out and just meet people, I truly wish there was something I could do to help. If it helps at all, I am ALWAYS willing to listen, talk, anything with 100% no judgement. I am all about helping people, especially people who just need someone to listen. Hold on, please. ❤

  11. anti-depressants and vodka were my way out, but I woke up with a massive hangover that lasted for days. so that was that and I have not tried it again. life has improved vastly since then but I still do not socialize as much as I used to do but that was when I drank and had plenty of money and friends. fair weather friends that drifted away after the money started to dry up. you have a real talent for words and writing use that to your benefit and maybe in time you will get to that happy place.

  12. once i’ve done it and don’t know how but i survived. i want to tell you what stops me from doing it these days whenever this option lingers but i know that when we are in that state we can’t accept reasons. i know what you’re going through and i want to pray for you not to do it. at least find something that can help you. you are the only one who can help you.

  13. I feel what you feel, to be lonely in a room of people, to feel no sense of belonging in places I’ve invested in for years. I’m beginning to try to make peace with who I am, and push myself to do things every ounce of my being doesn’t want to do. I give in to isolation a lot still, but I also go out more than I used to. There are others in my immediate family who have the same struggles as I do.

    Nobody can put a bandage on our pain, or explain away our predispositions to various thoughts, perceptions, even our personality means we see the world in a given way, not always clearly. We are who we are, but we can learn to manage life the more we know ourselves and how to be gentle with those things, try things that will help us make it through another day. You may be thinking that sounds like of sad, but I look at it like this, another day is another day, and who knows how many more of these we will have.

    10 years ago I had a life changing experience when I went for some prayer counseling (sceptically, at first) and someone (a complete stranger) took the time to really listen and speak into my life in ways that helped me focus on the lies I was believing and the truth of who I really am. The counsel was free (at a local faith community) and it was the beginning for me of writing things down… giving validity to feelings and then trying to sort through them. I continue to tell people about counseling as an option that, to some degree, saved me. Everyone needs someone to listen to them.

    You are a writer… this is a gift. To have the courage to write what you do here is a step toward healing. Don’t give up or give in to the lies that you are hearing. You have worth, you have a purpose and you are just beginning to see what that is. Remember the movie The Help… the line that the maid kept saying to the little girl she loved… you is kind, you is smart, you is important. I loved that. I pray that in time you will find the words that will be truth and healing to your broken heart… ones that will speak life into you. I believe your writing will help you to discover this part of your story.

    Sorry I’ve gone on here a bit… I just wanted to try to connect with you somehow, and say, as others have done so well, that you are not alone, others feel as you do, and perhaps there is even hope in that, a brotherhood of sorts.

    My blog link to Buddy Breathing is here… and you can find an older one called Sometimes Suicidal Mama… if it’s any help at all.

    Lesley-Anne

  14. Please don’t avoid writing that book because you fear that it won’t sell & you’ll be even more dejected. It is fear that keeps us from everything good; don’t give in to it! You may find that writing the novella is only a step in the right direction, leading you to do something altogether different, or something in addition to it. The point is to make that step & try it. If we dont keep taking steps, we never get anywhere. & Who knows, you may wind up on the best-seller list with this novella!! You’ve got just as good a shot as anyone else–remember that!
    P.S. You can self-publish through an online publisher such as Createspace, or Lulu. If you can use Microsoft Word, you can lay-out your own book & it’s not too expensive to have a paperback novel printed. They put it on Amazon, too.
    Good luck,—– & put suicide off for a while, okay? 🙂

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