Someone gives me an idea and then I write. That usually is how my blog works. But lately, despite many ideas, I have not been able to think of anything to write. I have a black dog of depression following me around and I just can’t shake it. I can’t stand being home bound and not going out to even get a cup of coffee. I have been thinking about this for a while and wonder if I will be able to shake it this time. I want so badly to end my life and I wonder if I will ever go through with it. It has been constantly on my mind for weeks now. All I need to do is make a date with death. I am a useless human being. I can’t stand myself. I really just loath myself and feel that I deserve to die. I don’t deserve to live.
The black dog seems to be rearing its ugly head around the same time every night for the past four weeks. I have been so down that I just have not made it in to see my psychiatrist. Not much she can do for me anyways. It’s not like she can put me in a cast and tell me I will be better in 6-8 weeks. I have been on every medication out there and nothing seems to help me. I just want to give up. The feelings of hopelessness are strong. I can’t seem to shake the worthlessness I feel nearly every day and the self hate that goes with it.
The other night I found an old script written in 2009 in my journal for an AFO (Ankle Foot Orthotic). Seems if I had gotten that PT order in, I might not be disabled today and out of work. I have no one to blame but myself for being too lazy to see that I needed an AFO sooner rather than later. I really loath myself and all that I do. I just can’t help thinking that I am the saddest human on the planet. There is no hope for me. I try to give it for other people, hoping my story will inspire some. I just don’t want to be anymore. Living is just too hard. It hurts every day in some form or other. I can’t get over feeling so horrible day in and day out. I wish that I could just pass away in my sleep. Things would be easier that way.
There is a question on the ballot for passing a law for assisted suicide. The supposed pharmacist says that 100 seconal tablets would be enough for some one to die. And “they call that dying with dignity”. I say that it is. I will say yes to question 2 because I believe that everyone has a right to die the way they want rather than to have their cards played the way they are supposed to. Why should someone with Alzheimer’s or ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease) be allowed to die a slow and painful death knowing there is no cure for them. I just don’t understand how people can allow other people to suffer and yet euthanize a cat or dog so they “don’t suffer anymore”. Why is it more humane to kill an animal over a human being? I just don’t understand it. Why is dying with some sense of faculty so difficult for people to understand? I know that people who think about suicide are not really rational, but I have been suicidal for so long, I have to wonder whether I have become rational in my thinking. I can justify taking my life because I do not want to suffer anymore. I can’t bare to breath at times. Taking in a breath hurts like a person with asthma struggles to breath during an attack. I have to force air in my lungs when I don’t want to. I feel so dead inside. I swear my brain just doesn’t know that I am dead so it just keeps on functioning the way that it supposed to. I feel like I am on life support with no one able to pull the plug but me. But the plug is out of reach…
Started out as an idea then blossomed into a plan. He knows that killing himself was the only way out. Thoughts of doom and gloom were perpetually haunting him night and day for the past month. He hasn’t been able to shake the black dog for weeks. The loss of sleep, appetite, loss of interest in things that used to be pleasurable has been growing. Most days he just stays in bed praying for death to end his suffering. He has tried to shake it off and do the things that give him pleasure but the pain of living has been too great. No matter what he does to try and distract himself, the pain comes on in the early evening, drowning everything that means anything to him. Every night at the same time the midnight demons come out and the suicidal impulses and thoughts become overwhelmingly powerful. He just decided within the next week to put his plan into action. He no longer can take the heartache, pain and restlessness every night. Nothing helps the sorrow or the pain. Duloxetine was supposed to help. It did for a few weeks but now he is so enveloped all he can think about is his way out.
The hotel room has been reserved. What better place than by the place of his former employment. The chemicals have been purchased. A bottle of each in the bathtub should be sufficient. Hotel bathrooms are not that big. The thrill of putting this plan into action fills him with joy. He does think of how much he will suffer. After all, choking on chlorine gas can’t be pleasant. But hopefully it will be faster than pills.
The week has finally come. Soon as his check comes in he will rent the room that will be his death chamber. He can hardly wait to do this. The tension of all the years of suffering has finally ceased to be. He has been cheerful around people, putting on the act of someone who doesn’t have a care in the world. No one knows of his plan, that is the beauty of it. No one suspects. He is tired of seeking help and this time he will become a statistic that will be a suicide. He will join the 30, 000 plus that commits suicide every year. The only obstacle he needs to overcome is his therapist’s safety plan. He has never lied in his life but this time his one lie is a big one. If successful, he will be gone, if not he still will be among the millions of people that suffer from depression.
Depression affects millions of people. It does not discriminate. It is a hidden illness as the signs are not always obvious. Lethargy, fatigue, loss of interest, loss of pleasurable things and activities are common. Personal hygiene is another common dysfunction that is not really discussed outside a clinician’s office. They may not shower every day or even brush their teeth.
I have suffered from depression most of my life and it’s only been over the past few years that my hygiene has suffered. I don’t shower every day. I barely brush my teeth. I don’t use deodorants unless I remember to. I might brush my teeth once every few days, though it’s not because I’m lazy. It’s mostly because I don’t care at times or because my post nasal drip (PND) causes me to gag and be nauseous. Because there have been many mornings where I am gagging and puking, I have gotten in the habit of not brushing my teeth every day or brushing later in the day when my stomach settles. Most days I really just forget because it just isn’t a priority for me. The PND has also gone on for years and I can say that it has caused me to feel bad about myself because I can’t take care of my teeth. Both my parents have dentures and that is the last thing that I want but when you feel so low, you don’t want to do anything. Even less so when you feel sick to your stomach. So I try to brush before bed and get in that habit but it is not easy. I have become easily distracted so if I go to the bathroom and do my business, I might not remember to brush. Sometimes I will if my mouth feels yucky. I think a lot of people with this condition don’t take care of themselves but are too embarrassed to admit they don’t take care of their oral hygiene. It is the same with personal hygiene.
I just don’t think about this anymore mostly because I know I will end up losing my teeth if I don’t. I have even stopped going to the dentist for fear of being reprimanded. I feel bad about my hygiene habits. Bust most days you only have enough spoons to do one or two things for the day. If showering and brushing your teeth are those two things, that doesn’t leave much for the rest of the day. I’m lucky that some days I go out and get my coffee at Starbucks. Usually that means no shower. Which leaves you with one spoon. Spoon theory (https://midnightdemons7.wordpress.com/2012/08/08/spoon-theory-explained/) is the equivalent of the amount of energy people have that do not have a chronic medical or mental condition that affect daily activities. Most people can take a shower, brush their teeth, get dressed, and then go out into the world to do what they have to do. This is not so with someone with a chronic health condition, being physical or mental. For those of us with chronic illness, it is not that easy. What used to take me 20 minutes now takes 40 or more, depending on how much pain or energy I have.
For me, it takes about 30 minutes to get dressed only because it is difficult for me to decide what to wear. What color jeans, socks, shirt or what kind of jeans I want to wear. Indecision is the biggest problem with me. I have too many and I can’t just chose one. I guess it could be worse. I could just be trying on clothes and take them off like some people do.
How I feel right now is pitiful indeed. My thoughts are surrounded by suicidal ideation and I really don’t think I can get out this month without trying to end my life. The feelings are hard pressed. They cut through me like a knife, they hit me deep within my soul. The midnight demons I call them are going to kill me one day. I just cannot seem to stop thinking of ending my life. I have a date and how I am going to do it. I just need to figure out the where and what time. No one will stop me. I have decided that I am not going to tell anyone except this online blog. I know that what I am feeling right now will change by morning and I won’t feel this way again until after the midnight hour. The pain is horrible and fills every crevice of my being. I can’t go on feeling like this but it is just a moment. I have to try and remember that and that it will pass. I get so tired of feeling this way all the time. I plan to the nth degree the end of my suffering in detail and then when the time comes to execute my plan, I most of the time do not have the energy to do it or the will or the feeling to say, yea my time has come. I feel evil and demonic and most of all crazy with this feeling of I have to get rid of this feeling. It’s like a never ending game and it hits every year. I feel trapped and isolated. No one knows my suffering. No one really cares that I am suffering. NO one wants me to die but I don’t want to live. These moments will pass but the thoughts are all that I will have left on this blog. I doubt by morning light I will not remember this turmoil I am going through right now. It is killing me with every fiber of my being not to act on the impulse that I feel. But I do not want to be found in my house. I will find a hotel room and do my deed there or just drive some place off in the horizon. This moment will pass…this moment will pass…this moment will pass…