I am shaking and I can’t eat, but life is still moving forward. This morning I had a volunteer interview at our local domestic violence support program. I begin 40 hours of volunteer training at the end of the month. It feels right and I am looking forward to it. I don’t think I am suicidal anymore. I am mad. No, I am not mad. I am PISSED! I had a little slip up. Actually, I had four little slip ups. And of course it went bad again. It went bad very quickly. During this time I found out about his girlfriend with four kids and the side chick who is pregnant. And those things are okay because the night I called the police on him and he left my house for good was almost exactly a year ago. So he was single and free to live his life. My issue is that he hasn’t paid child support since last summer. That pisses me off, but I have let it go because I thought it would help him get on his feet. But now I know he has had money to spend on this woman and her 4 kids and I’m upset. And time. He had time for this woman and her kids, but saw our son ONCE over Christmas break. ONCE meaning on Christmas day for 4 hours! But I also tried to let that go. In February, when I came home from my Vipassana silent meditation retreat I was feeling full of love and forgiveness. So what did I do? I contacted him. We talked and laughed and I was convinced all was good. I then proceeded to have 4 different slip ups with him. And then of course things got ugly. I started catching feelings and he, despite his words of caring, didn’t have time for that! Then it turned into arguments and hurt feelings and finally he accused me of trying to hack into his email. I’m too old and too tired for all of that and I let him know exactly that. Then next day he blocked me on all social media and then by phone. I gave myself one day to feel sorry for myself and grieve for making the same mistake one last time and today I got up ready to take on the world. I had my volunteer interview and that was wonderful. I left there feeling like the world was genuinely a good place and maybe there was hope for my and my future. So I did what any normal happy person would do, I stopped to visit my mother. We had a great conversation and then I made my confession to her. Then she made her confession to me… She told me about a month ago he came to her house and asked her for money to pay his rent!!! HIS RENT! He is a 45 year old man with a one bedroom apartment. He supposedly works 12 hour days and every weekend. Where the fuck is his money? And why the fuck is he asking my mom? What about his family? What about his girlfriend and her family? What about his sidechick and her family? LEAVE MY MOTHER THE FUCK ALONE!!! They all have moms. Go see their moms! Ask their mother’s for the money. I don’t even ask my mother for money when I am struggling. She has been through too much and helped too many people over the years (myself included). She deserves to relax and enjoy her life at this point. He needs to take his lies and his addiction elsewhere and I need to be stronger and stay away from him for good and protect my mother! I have spent the entire afternoon shaking and convincing myself not to call him and tell him exactly what I think of him. I am refraining because tonight I am going to a Gma-anon meeting and I am going to tell my story and get some support (did I mention he told me he went to the casino recently and blamed me for it?). and then this weekend I am going to visit my friend’s husband (my friend who recently passed) and bring him a casserole, then I am driving down to visit my bestie from college and get every last one of my feelings out. Then, if I still feel the need I am going to call his brother and tell him his brother needs to stay away from my mother from here on out or I will get a restraining order against him for my mom. I am done being his doormat!
The depression is back. Full on 100%, but that’s okay. One of my closest friends is dying. She is expected to pass within the week. We had a falling out about a year ago. Right after she was first diagnosed with cancer. We had an argument over a car I had sold to her that she wouldn’t pay me for because she had to put work into it herself. It wasn’t the argument that led to the falling out, it was the things she said to me during the argument that led to our falling out. She attacked my character and used every insecurity of mine that I had ever confided in her to tear me down. She sent me emails detailing these things, she posted on social media about me, she texted me. It came to the point where I had to block her at every avenue. I had another friend attempt to explain to me that she was lashing out because of the cancer diagnoses and her own fear of dying. At that time I wasn’t strong enough to be her punching bag and so a month went by, then another month, then another, and suddenly it had been a year. That is when I received a call, about two and a half weeks ago, from our mutual friend, who told me my friend was asking about me and wanting to see me, and so two weeks ago I drove out to see her. She was frail and weak, but still strong spirited with a badass mean streak still holding on. Then my life got busy again and I didn’t get back out to see her until this past Sunday. She can’t get up out of her bed now. She can’t speak but a few words, but she kept saying to my son and I, “I love you”, “I love you guys so much” and it broke my heart. Her daughter was there. She had just gotten there the day before. They had been estranged for many years. It is a complicated and sad family dynamic.
And I hate myself. I hate myself so very much. I want to lie down today and die myself. I have no next step. No plan of attack. No fucking hope. No reason aside from these kids. I am a nothing and I don’t know what to do with that any longer. I should see my friend and appreciate my life more, but I just wish I could trade places with her and give her my body and a second chance. I’m done. There’s no life left in me.
I am not. I am not walking my path. I have given up again. Given in to this voice inside my head who tells me suicide is the answer. Why have I given up? Why have I given in? What makes me believe I am less worthy than everyone else in this world? Why the fuck can’t I get it right? I see my naturopath next week. I don’t know that there is anything left she can do for me, but unless I am willing to put myself out in the world there isn’t much left anyone can do for me. I wish I could run away again. I am going to be nice to myself for this next week and a half. If I don’t make it to the gym I won’t beat myself up. If I sleep in and be lazy I won’t tell myself how worthless I am. I will keep searching and keep looking for something…
I’ve been tired lately. Extremely tired. I read about the Parkland shooting survivors who completed suicide and it broke my heart. If I had the funds I would create a sanctuary for persons with suicidal ideation. Not for people like me who are almost always thinking about it, contemplating it, planning it. For people who are at the precipice. for people where it is imminent. A sanctuary where they can just come and sit, away from the world, with comfy beds and warm bubble baths. Where the thought is still there. The urge isn’t going away, but it is keeping someone on this earth one more day. I picture rocking chairs and warm blankets, window seats with overstuffed pillows you can sink into, and books about nothing significant. Books you can lose yourself in, if only for a moment. We would meditate and walk the grounds, nature trails for leisurely strolling. Peace for just a f*cking moment! Not making the thoughts go away, but accepting that they are there and holding on.
Oh how I wish we had this in our society. Not just for the wealthy!
I am still banking on July to end my life. It is making living just a tad bit easier. Most of my time is still spend sitting at home like a blob doing absolutely nothing aside from letting my mind wander and tell me what an idiot I am for having let my life get the way it has. I am going to the gym most days of the week (I should probably kill myself in a way that they will be able to donate my organs to someone else). I have been feeling pretty healthy physically, aside from being insanely tired most days. I’ve got my youngest son working out now so he should be in healthy shape by July so that will be good.
I started dating. To get my mind off my ex (which hasn’t helped because we’ve been hooking up on a regular basis now, but that’s another blog post entirely). I don’t know if it’s because I’m depressed or because dating in your forties just sucks, but so far I’ve experienced an unsolicited dick pic video from one guy, listened to another tell me his whole life story, his mother’s life story, his uncle’s and his grandmother’s, and another tell me how he’s a very nice guy, but he’s also a little bit kinky. Oh, and then the constant, “Do you have more pics of yourself? Can you send a sexy one?” Today I deleted all my dating app profiles and decided for the next 4 months I’m focusing on my kids and my health. A nice guy to hang out with would’ve been cool, but finding one in the online dating mess isn’t worth it.
I wish I had a career. I wish I would have found a way to use my constant suicidal ideation to propel myself forward. I wish it wasn’t too late. I wish I was brave enough to network and find that one person or company willing to take a chance on me. My oldest son is a freshman in college, full of hopes and dreams. He is already skilled at networking and I couldn’t be more proud of him. He ran for office for one of he clubs he belongs to and is now vice-president. He also makes motivational speaking videos. Sometimes I can hardly believe he is my child. He talks a or about how the world doesn’t owe you anything and nothing is going to be handed to you if you don’t strive and work and never give up. I get that and I believe it, but I still sit at my laptop like a giant blob doing nothing and going nowhere, wishing someone would come along and give me a hand up! Basically, I can motivate my son to motivate people, but can’t motivate myself to do shit! Life is a real mother f*cker!
It is a new day. A gorgeous day. A year I am finally happy for spring as I am physically healthy and have energy to enjoy it when I can. The kids are home and the house is full of happiness, but it hasn’t changed my mind for July 31st. Perhaps it will help someone. Perhaps my family will be able to help someone else’s family see the depression in one of their family members and be more equipped to help them. With my time left I have decided I want to help everyone that I can. I am going to be supportive and positive and just be there for others. It is a wonderful feeling.
Why do these feelings always come back? Why??? I am leaving for my silent meditation retreat the day after tomorrow, but I have lost hope again. I hate myself. Aside from my kids, I hate my existence. I am 44 years old. I can’t do these ups and downs much longer. I gave it over a year since my suicide attempt. I’m doing better, but I’m still on the road of “when I’m up, I’m up, and when I’m down, I’m down” I tried. I fucking tried! Tried to be fucking normal. Applied for jobs. Went on interviews. I just want to go to sleep and never wake up and I hate that I feel this way again. Because I don’t want to die. I don’t want to feel sorry for myself. I want to appreciate my life and all that I do have. I try. I try every single day. I hate my brain.