joeylittle
Sponsor
I'm not doing well. This time of year doesn't make it any easier, either. For people who are alone, the holidays are doubly hard. They are hard because we don't have a clan, and hard because anyone we might be able to call on for help - well, they are busy.
I can't find a reason to live. I don't need a big one, a small simple one would be fine. Something to believe in. I have no hope left, except for this tiny, tiny shred of it that wants to experience something good one more time before I die. I've been living on that tiny piece for months now.
I know this is depression, and it's not unfamiliar. But in the past I've been able to see that I didn't want death so much as relief. Now, I don't believe in relief, really - the possibility is so far away and far-fetched. I believe I'm being realistic, too. Relief isn't plausible, for people in my situation. Not impossible, but also, not actually likely. My chances were much better a few years ago.
I'd need to be willing to take some big risks medically, and I can't see them making sense for me.
I don't see a way out of this mental and physical cul-de-sac. I don't know if I'm only being willful about not wanting to try a more invasive depression therapy. Maybe I am.
I can't get guilt working either. Bad times before, I could still want to spare my students the shock of having one of their teachers kill themselves. Or, I wanted to be able to take care of my pets. Or, not wanting to give someone else a traumatic experience in having to find me. I can sometimes still push these buttons in myself, but they only last long enough for me to get to a coping skill. And more often than not, I don't know how to care about all those others anymore.
I'm sure many many members here have lived their way through these kinds of sufferings. I'd really appreciate some help, or challenging questions, or anything, really.
Thanks for reading.
I can't find a reason to live. I don't need a big one, a small simple one would be fine. Something to believe in. I have no hope left, except for this tiny, tiny shred of it that wants to experience something good one more time before I die. I've been living on that tiny piece for months now.
I know this is depression, and it's not unfamiliar. But in the past I've been able to see that I didn't want death so much as relief. Now, I don't believe in relief, really - the possibility is so far away and far-fetched. I believe I'm being realistic, too. Relief isn't plausible, for people in my situation. Not impossible, but also, not actually likely. My chances were much better a few years ago.
I'd need to be willing to take some big risks medically, and I can't see them making sense for me.
I don't see a way out of this mental and physical cul-de-sac. I don't know if I'm only being willful about not wanting to try a more invasive depression therapy. Maybe I am.
I can't get guilt working either. Bad times before, I could still want to spare my students the shock of having one of their teachers kill themselves. Or, I wanted to be able to take care of my pets. Or, not wanting to give someone else a traumatic experience in having to find me. I can sometimes still push these buttons in myself, but they only last long enough for me to get to a coping skill. And more often than not, I don't know how to care about all those others anymore.
I'm sure many many members here have lived their way through these kinds of sufferings. I'd really appreciate some help, or challenging questions, or anything, really.
Thanks for reading.