Don’t judge a person until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes… That doesn’t seem to stop people. And now I’m going to expose myself to judgement even more. But that’s okay. Apparently things are better out than in.
Last Thursday as I went to bed, I looked through the box I keep all my medicine in: a variety of antidepressants, sleeping pills, antispasmodics, schedule five painkillers, etc. and came to the conclusion that I don’t need to take all of them. One or two of a couple would be more than enough. And if I don’t use it all, maybe it won’t look like suicide, and then the insurance and everything will pay out, my mom won’t have to worry about my debt, she can get my car, and both she and my best friend will have some money to get them through their own financial rough patches.
The timing was perfect too: my housemate was going to be away for the weekend, and her pets would survive not being fed for one day.
But then I made the mistake of telling my friend about my plans on Friday morning. I needed to tell someone to sell my books for extra money, take the food I’ve bought that’s left in the freezer. And since he’s gone through a depression the scale of which he’s never experienced before, I thought he’d understand. Not encourage or support me, of course, just understand.
However, he was being all reasonable and level headed and not quite as understanding. I don’t know how I thought he would be. Being depressed for a few months, even as unlikely as it is for him to be anything but optimistic, cannot compare to over a decade of major depression, various drug and therapy treatments, and more suicidal tendencies than a 70s cult.
Of course everything he said was true, and behold, I’m still around, but I’m not any happier or closer to being “in a good/better place”.
I’m sure everyone reading this (assuming anyone is) thinks it couldn’t have been too serious if I didn’t go through with it; or I couldn’t have been serious about it if I told anyone about it. You have no idea. And to be honest, things have gotten worse. I didn’t think it was possible.
For those who believe committing suicide is selfish, have you ever thought how selfish it is for people who can’t change your circumstances, to expect that you should carry on. And do so without complaining. To count your blessings – there are people who have it worse than you. Yes there are; they seem to be coping better with their disadvantages than what I am, privileged as I am. And I have an excellent emotional support system.
Unfortunately external circumstances are breaking me down and I am in no position to do anything about it. And being an emotional wreck is influencing my life in broad. I don’t want my mom to know, so as far as she knows I’m happy. I’m withdrawing socially because I don’t want to bother other people with my problems. The only person who knows about my demons in details is my best friend. Until the writing of this post, he had the burden of keeping my secret, and to fight to keep me alive on top of his own troubles. That was selfish. That is part of the reason I’m writing this.
I am broken. I don’t see how I’m going to get fixed. I will fight on as long as Morné fights with me. I think we’ve reached a new level in our relationship. I’ve never told anyone of any of my previous attempts in detail before. He’s verbalised how much I’ve meant to him over the past decade. Maybe that has given me some hope.
Do I feel better writing this? No. I just feel like the same emotional, whining person I am every day. Now I just have (another) public record thereof.