It is pretty much a constant thought. I try not to dwell on it, and I actively resist making any plans. No matter how hard I try, though, it’s always there. I feel like your lives would improve if mine ended. I hate what my illness is doing to your hearts and I want to stop it. I see the damage my disorder is doing to you, and I hate myself for being this way. I would give up the whole world to stop it.
2. I sometimes hurt myself.
Yes. Sometimes I do slip into a dark enough place, and I hurt myself. It helps to get me numb enough to get out of that place. It draws me away from the darkness that is swallowing me and forces me into the very real present moment. I do not advocate for this! It leaves scars on my body and forces me to make excuses. I am without any real recourse if anyone guesses at my secret.
3. I am really, truly, quite lonely.
Isolation is a killer. I miss my loved ones dearly. It hurts to be pinned to my bed, missing them from only a short walk away. Hearing them laughing and enjoying themselves without me is unbearable and heavy to carry. There is nothing I can do about it without more clinical help.
4. I fare better online, inside mental health communities.
I thrive in my online communities. When I start sharing whatever it is that is going on, the mental health forums light up on my behalf and they all have advice on what to do. I give good advice too, so may people enjoy my presence.
5. I am not usually sleeping when I lay in bed all day.
I am going to say I didn’t feel well, and that I slept it off. That is, however, a lie. I laid awake most of the day, being hurt and angry at myself for failing yet again. That’s what I use most of my days for.
6. I have extremely vivid nightmares.
It’s 2 a.m. right now, as I am writing this. I sedated myself only to wake up from a horrible nightmare. Not a new thing for me. Rather, very familiar to me. I have been having nightmares since I was a kid.
7. I didn’t really eat earlier, I just don’t want to eat now.
Again, I will lie to you. I haven’t eaten in two or three days. I am still not hungry enough to want food. So, I am gonna say I snacked out on my own food, and that I am too full to eat again. It gives you a good reason not to pry any further.
8. There is no real reason I am depressed.
None. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Nothing. I wake up this way. I live this way. I sleep this way. Nothing really causes it, and nothing has — so far — done much at all to fix it. There isn’t a “why” to my sadness or emptiness. It just exists. Please stop asking me why I am depressed.
9. You’re letting me down again.
Sometimes I wish I could scream this one from the rooftops. Whenever I reach out for help and you mock me. Whenever I try to do better and you point out past failures. Whenever you give me some pep-talk about starving children. It doesn’t help me. I need you to reach into your own darkness and show some of it to me so I know that I am not alone in this fight. I am losing, and you are not fighting with me. Sometimes I wish I could just ask you if you want me to revert to when I was angry instead of repressed, back when fighting was my first choice. I want to demand answers. But I won’t. That’s too exhausting, and I have to try to be human today.
10. I want to run away, all the time.
I long to disappear into the wild and find a new city to call home and start working my way in. It’s fun and invigorating. The city really breathes life into me and gives me a sense of drive and of purpose. I have child and a life here, so I can’t. But I want to.
Peace, Love, and Bulletproof Marshmallows Mandey T