Sense of humor keeping me alive?
Been thinking about this today.. I was at an interview meeting for first year medical students and I remember joking a lot with the interviewer. I was talking about serious stuff, like my suicide and transgender issues and I kept thinking why is every one laughing. I was laughing at myself, but inside. The voices were watching me and I could tell they were not pleased. They always get nervous when I tell people my most personal thoughts. I guess they get jealous when I tell people outside because the voices are lonely and they need me to continue to talk to them to exist. I have not been faithful with my medication the past few days. I find that my mind is better for writing when I am not medicated than when I am. It truly sucks trying to write and you can’t because the thoughts just are not flowing.
I began reading a book on sibling suicide written by a friend of mine. I had no idea how suicide affected siblings. I never thought about how my sisters would react to my death if I died by my own hand. I was more afraid of their children’s grief than theirs. I guess you can say I am too old to kill myself but that does not mean I want to live. I am forced to live because of my responsibilities to others. That is why I am still here. I can joke about suicide and suicidal thinking, because it is who I am. Right now I am feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet and I am betting not a single person on facebook responds to it. I know I post a lot of statuses. It is because I am bored most of the time and have to tell people what I am doing like they really care. I find that less meaningful statuses draw more attention than serious ones. I don’t know why that seems important to me but I have noticed it. Very rarely do my family members respond. Usually my friends do. Even those that are across the pond will respond. I know that not everyone can respond to each of my twenty or more statuses but the ones that mean the most to me are the ones that I find the most painful. I complain a lot about being in chronic pain. I use my Facebook status to vent about how awful I feel, both physically and mentally. It is very rare that I will post I am having a good day. The days last week are gone and I doubt they will happen again. I feel like my air has been let out of the balloon and now I am back to my usual level of depression.
Today I had a migraine. It was really bright outside and I resented having to go out to this meeting but I agreed and I always hold up to my commitments no matter how bad I was feeling. In this meeting I divulged more than I should have and I think that is why I am feeling very terrible now. I can’t shut up the voices in my head. They have been chattering non-stop since I have come home. I have been trying to read to drown them out but it does no good. They keep telling me I am a loser and won’t amount to a thing. That the book deal with my friend will never happen, that it was a joke to start with and I am starting to believe them because why would someone want to hear my voice? What makes me so damn special that others want to know my struggles with depression and suicide and being a transgender or being homosexual? But am I really homosexual if I am a guy and like women? I am so confused!!! I just want to fricken die rather than deal with this stuff. I know that I must continue to live to make others happen but it’s killing me to struggle every damn day, whether I pee my pants, crap my pants, am in chronic pain with my stupid ankle or have the nerve pain from hell or just have the biggest psychache in the world for no reason other than I am not who I am. I am a guy trapped in a woman’s body and it is killing me to be this way.