This may be in the wrong spot....
But I'm looking for a discussion on the constant struggle with su...
I started "wishing I was dead" at age ten, crying in my room every day and embarrassed to come to dinner with a red puffy face, which nobody acknowledged.
I had the hope that when I left for college I would finally be free of the depression but no. However since I was attractive and shy many boys payed attention. I lived off that until I was used up, then went into a near psychotic major depression for 12 years before I found hope through a caring person.
I got involved with great people at a church for ten years. I married someone I met there who knew many friends. They knew him, his ex-wife, and kids for 20 years. They thought highly of him and he was always chosen to lead by the staff.
After the wedding I went into a major depression due to his treatment. He despised me and tried to make me feel worthless.
Two things prevented me from suicide or divorce. My mom grew up in a Catholic school where she learned and then taught us early on that you go to hell if you do either. Now I know it's not true but it's so ingrained in me I believe it prevents me from doing either.
I have a lot of painfully deep lows. Other times I can act happy and active. I am afraid of people in general. The lows come from stress of living with my husband. He triggers the rejection, neglect and manipulation by lies. Then I wish I was dead again.
I can't watch the news because so negative and so are movies and TV for the most part. Instead I throw myself into projects and stay away from my husband. I try to be aware when someone is using me and avoid it. I try to learn more about the brain and behavior and mental illnesses, which helps me not to blame myself.
I am 67 and I believe I will never be free of the desire to die because the emotional damage done in the past changed my brain to make me overly sensitive to the triggers that caused the pain in the first place.
It is only because I have since met people who are healthy and who show true care and concern, that I was able to realize that the input into my life was not nurturing, but it was destructive, and much of it was not true. Loving people are few and far between, at least those who understand what caused my depression. Meeting them gave me a foundation of a different reality.
Anti-depressants don't work, nor did talk therapy. Only EMDR therapy helped me grow out of some of my trapped thinking. I depend on Baclofen, a muscle relaxant for migraines that also reduces the high fear response in my hippocampus, and anti-anxiety meds.
Seeking to be with people who are compassionate and don't give unrequested, unhelpful advice is a goal that keeps me from always wanting to die.