I’m feeling very sad and all I want to do it stay home and lie around. I’m forced to go to work, which is both good and horrible, but as I was packing my bag I turned to my ever increasing supply of meds and herbal remedies and thought, “which one do I take to feel happy right now?” Oh, right, that one doesn’t exist.
Mental illness is crippling.
I’m not sure if my recent internet transparency is even beneficial to my health, but I’m going to continue broadcasting from my fragile mental state because it seems to be an outlet for me and maybe it will shed light on someone else’s struggles or at least help others to understand, even very basically, what it’s kind of like.
Mental illness is truly crippling. I wish people could understand it. I’ve spent basically my entire life being sad. I’m very hard on myself, I’m never good enough; I’m never good. No matter how many times I hear that I’m intelligent or handsome or cool or creative or fun, I never believe it. I’ve heard all the same things all my life about “finding happiness”, but it never helps. I’ve told myself these things as many times as I’ve heard them. I fought the idea of anti-depressants forever. I chose self-medicating—you may remember me as the drunk, outgoing guy (or asshole) from parties or shows or just in the street. That was my attempt at happiness. Honestly, being drunk is one of the few times I have had that ‘happy’ feeling. But then the next day started to get more and more painful because of heightened anxiety and depression, to the point that I felt like I was dying every time. Have you come to grips with the fact that you’re about to die? I have far too many times. It’s fucked up—especially when you’re physically “fine”. There have been far too many times to even remember when I have broken down at an ungodly hour, completely wasted on alcohol and sorrow—I have a lot of friends and family that have received the blunt end of my sadness.
I also recently came to terms with the fact that my depression directly contributed to the end of a very serious, long-term relationship with my best friend and former lover. I wasn’t aware of how hard it is to deal with someone who is constantly sad, but I somewhat understand it now. I feel horrible because if you know me well, you know I am very sensitive but I also hate hurting other peoples’ feelings. It eats away at me when I hurt someone. She’s not the only person that has been affected by my mental illness.
I started taking anti-depressants earlier this summer because after too many years of trying everything I could think of, I found no relief. I was terrified to start taking them. I hated the idea of “being addicted to something” and would never let a substance “control my life”. Well, Kyle, it turns out that you are addicted to something, it’s called alcohol, and you’re nowhere NEAR “in control” of your life: your sadness and anxiety is controlling you. I think everyone wants to “do it on their own”, but I understand now that I am physically unable to. The medication I have been taking has helped with my social anxiety (After the meds kicked in, I was able to see friends and not want to crawl into a cave), but, if anything, it has exposed even more depression, to the point of being unable to drag my body out of the house for a week straight because “I just can’t today.” I recently had a visit with my doctor and he asked me if I could guarantee that I wouldn’t kill myself in the next two weeks and I said that I wasn’t able to guarantee that. I was then sent to the psych ward, where I was given some advice and new meds, as well as a lot of future psychiatric help (side-note: the healthcare system is fucked up. You need to tell them you’re about to kill yourself before you actually receive help—COOL). Part of me is very hopeful that these new meds and counselling/psychiatric help will lessen the load, but it is VERY hard to be hopeful right now because I can’t find joy in anything.
It’s not fun to be a sad person. It’s also very confusing to understand that not everyone says to themselves everyday, “being dead would be a lot better than being alive.” I can’t see a light at the end of the tunnel right now. It’s just all black. I know people say it gets better, but it hasn’t gotten better yet and I’m becoming very, very tired.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s a fucking battle. I’ve been fighting it for way too long. I’m so very tired of this. I’m tired of wanting to be dead. I’m tired of thinking that death is the solution to my pain. All I want is to quit, but I know I would decimate a select few peoples’ hearts and I somehow can’t bring myself to do that, despite how much I want to. That’s the only thing that keeps me going.
As much as other people can’t understand my mental illness, I can’t understand others’. I can empathize, but I don’t know. When people offer ‘advice’ to me, it kills. What should YOU do to help someone you know who suffers from mental illness? Give that person love and support. Just let that person know that you care and you’re there. Don’t offer advice, just love. I guess the way I see it, you wouldn’t give advice to a person dying of an illness (I’m not saying I’m “dying”, but what do you call it when someone has basically given up their will to live and wants to be dead?). You probably wouldn’t say, “oh, but look at all the happy things in your life right now!” or, “have you thought about just TRYING to not have cancer?” I’m not writing that because I’m asking people to love me, I’m just saying that you probably know someone, or know someone who knows someone who suffers from something similar, and maybe this will help you deal with that person. Who knows?
And, no, I can’t respond to your texts right now. I can’t “hang out” with you. I can really only take life moment-by-moment right now. I can’t be present for you. Being alive and getting out of bed is hard enough. I’m sorry if you can’t understand that. If you think I’m a bad friend, I’m sorry. I haven’t been a great friend lately to some people and it makes me feel horrible. I don’t ever want to make people feel bad, but sometimes I just don’t know how to deal with things and I literally can’t. It’s impossible. Maybe if I had a different brain, I could.
I don’t even know what the point of this is. I’m just writing it to write. Maybe this is helpful to someone, maybe it is totally pointless, like everything else in my life, but at least I’m doing something. I swear to god, I’m trying. I really am. I wouldn’t be writing this if I didn’t give a shit. I don’t want to be sad, I just can’t seem to figure out how to not be sad.
I’m not ashamed of my illness and I refuse to let it define me. Maybe that’s why I’m writing this… I want to break the stigma surrounding this issue and have people openly discuss mental health. I can’t speak from anything but my experience.
Maybe it will get better? This is DEFINITELY not my first battle with suicidal feelings, but maybe it will be my last. Who knows? I’m TRYING to be optimistic, as nauseating as that is right now.
Thank you for listening.
"These days, there are angry ghosts all around us - dead from wars, sickness, starvation - and nobody cares. So you say you’re under a curse? So what? So’s the whole damn world… My point is that everybody dies, boy; some now, some later. From brothel girl to emperor."
When you say
That you know
Of all the good times to come
Thanks for being supportive, friends and Internet friends. Life is a trip…
Recent song titles:
I Wanna Die
A Long Sleep
I’m pretty sure some of my “followers” get sick of my “sad guy” posts, and I can understand that—I’ve unfollowed many people because they annoy the shit out of me. I just want to say that if that’s the case, do me a favour and unfollow me because I’m not going to stop. This is one way of dealing with my feelings. I’m not doing it to be cool or a sad guy or an artist, I’m doing it because it’s a way to express how miserable I feel. It’s an outlet. I’m sorry that I can’t just “snap out of it”.
I post pictures of myself and things that I’ve seen through my camera lense and places I’ve been and things that I write and text message conversations that I’ve had and songs I like. I don’t care if you think I’m lame or annoying.