*Please note that this has been written by a deeply disturbed woman and shouldn't be read by those who aren't willing to peek into a very sick mind. I wrote it because I am narcissistic and am exploiting my very core. I especially hope that it might give you some insight into the clouded minds of those you know or have known who suffer(ed) from mental illness. Read it at your own risk. I am prepared to loose friends/respect/your trust because of this.
I write approximately five posts for every one that I publish. The ones that stay privately tucked away in a sad folder are too alarming, and I'm scared of your judgement. Since I decided years ago that I would be a specimen for your edification by exploiting my sexual and emotional culmination, welcome into my torment.
Comment all you like, and know that although I appreciate your comments trying to help me stay positive or at least objective- I know all about the ways I could "help myself". I have been manically depressed for decades. No amount of prescriptions, therapy (of any kind), love, or physical health make it go away. I've been fighting it for years but it lives and breathes inside of me and to kill it would mean the end of me. That's what I've always really wanted anyway. I've been writing since I knew how, and to examine my journals would show you how long I have wanted to not be alive (and how much heartache boys have caused me). My friends and family say that when I'm sick I can't remember what it feels like to be well. My mother says I've had years of happiness. Maybe so, but it's all led to this. This living nightmare. Waking up and resenting the first thing to be done- opening my eyes and having to move. Regretting every decision I've made in my life. Hating my writing but doing it anyway for the same reason I smoke and eat shit and fuck gross creeps. Despising all of my doctors who try and fail. Feeling sorry for those who love me, knowing that they've bet on a losing horse. It makes me question their intelligence. I tricked them. I'm so charming when I want to be. I made them love me and they fell for my act. I say that I love them too but how could I? One of my favorite cliches is that you can't love anyone unless you love yourself. I can love myself and I have, but it's fleeting so there you have it. I never want to publish writings that make me seem completely insane because I'm afraid that people/men will be afraid to get close to me. No one should anyhow, so I'm now doing myself this favor by letting you see the real me. Go ahead and say it's the disease. Make the distinction between the two so I as a person don't have to take responsibility for anything shitty or crazy that I do. That's how I live & that's how those close to me can survive all of my bullshit they have to put up with. "The disease" has followed me like a shadow, like a ghost my whole life. Even in my best days I know it's there, waiting to strike me down at the first sign of weakness. The older I get, the more powerful it becomes. I try to hold on to the adage that everything is temporary. Guess what? My moments of sanity are included here, though they usually don't fit in many other places.
I never felt unloved, I do not feel alone and I am not scared. I wasn't bullied and I am acutely aware of all the amazing things that I am capable of. My friends are amazing and birds of a feather flock together. None of this matters.
You want to know why people kill themselves? Because they don't want to be alive. It's not necessarily wanting to be dead, it's not wanting to live. It's not to punish those around them unless on a holy mission. If you want to live in this world then you are strong and should be proud of that. If I had cancer instead of this and nothing worked to cure me, would you begrudge my willingness to leave this earth? If you believe in putting people out of their misery why is it so bad that I should want to be put out of mine? It has nothing to do with you, it has only to do with my life. I'm not living anyway, do you understand?
If you could look into my eyes you would see that I'm not living anyway.
They've decided to come and take me away again. I have to let them because ultimately they decide what's best for me. I could kill myself before they get here but my friends won't leave me alone and frankly I don't have the fucking energy to kill myself today, anyway. I'm too busy laying in my bed, staring at the palm trees in the wind and smoking. This isn't a cry for help. Something in me must love punishing myself because I'm good at it & am relentless. They're making me leave my home and taking me away. I'll probably (especially if they read THIS) have to go back to the hospital. They will give me a new cocktail of drugs again- though they are running out of pills to try. They will encourage ECT again. I'll just do what they say. They've all given too much & I owe it to them. I resent it but it's all I can do. Staying alive is the best way I know how to make myself feel terrible and everyone else happy so let's keep this up. I'll keep doing it again and again and again and I'll never REALLY get better but the moments of goodness will be enough to encourage the people that love me. I'll feel good then too. I will also know that lurking very close behind is the monster of what and who I really am. I don't want anybody to be sad. If I could take on all the sadness I would because I know how, and no one else should. I am an open wound and I'll take your salt and lemon juice and I'll suck on it like I'm drinking tequila. I'll never heal and turn into a resilient scar with a great story. I'll just keep tearing open, becoming more & more infected and difficult to look at.
ps. just because i fucked you doesn't mean you are a gross creep. don't forget how many dudes i've boned.
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14 comments:
I'm not going to offer any solutions. Just a thank you for your willingness to open a window on mental illness to people who have never suffered it and don't understand. I hope you will get better. Nobody deserves to live like this. x
Wow, this post was really brave. You should be applauded for putting it all out there. If more people were willing to discuss what they are going through, it would help to alleviate the stigma of mental illness. Your unflinching honesty and candure are truly heroic.
I am glad that you are working with mental health professionals (hopefully both a psychiatrist and therapist) . I also hope that you find help and peace on your journey in life. It sounds like you have a great support system of friends and that is a great start...
My only wish is that you somehow find peace and happiness while you're alive.
Claire, I respect what you wrote enough to say that I wish you peace however you choose to find it. I watch my father suffer in his 13th year of Alzheimer's Disease and I wish I could put him out of his misery. I know I would want someone to do the same for me if I ended up like him. In fact, Jer Rubin is supposed to come and detonate me with explosives after setting me adrift on a raft heading over a waterfall if I ever get to that point. Maybe you should call Jerry...? People may judge me for saying this, but if you no longer want to live, then I respect that decision and I wouldn't try to convince you otherwise. It's clear that you're not experiencing a temporary depression... you are living with chronic pain - just like someone with cancer. I hope I get the chance to say goodbye and thank you for everything you've meant to me in my life. I love you and always will. -Mark (aka Sparky - the grossest, creepiest guy you've ever boned)
Thank you for opening a window and allowing me to applaud your brave unflinching honesty. It made my day. Peace be with you.
Holding you in my heart, whatever path you take. I've always been in awe of your guts - guess you tricked me! You shine a light that many have marveled at. Who will ever know why a soul chooses the path of its life? Now you are a teacher, too.
I've been following your blog for a while now. I'm not going to pretend to know or understand what u r going through. But your last post helped me to better comprehend what u r going through. Your cancer analogy really clarified your outlook on YOUR life and I admire and respect your courage in dealing with YOUR life and what ever path is your destiny by your own choice. I have learned that selfishness is not always a negativething. Its just how u look at it. I will attest to mark being one of the grossest , sleaziest douchebags u have boned. I had my chance to be among that list but I fucked it up back in grade 8. And yes mark and I have a little arrangement. It was supposed to be between mark and I and our sons! Well I guess the cats out of the bag. He forgot to mention that he will be smothered in syrop and honey so upon detination as he plummits over the water fall, he will instantly become delicious morcelts of food for the local wildlife and be re absorbed into nature. We concocted this back in 1992! Be well my friend!
Have you tried extreme sports?
Sorry if that seems out of context. I have never suggested that to anyone, but that's what stuck in my head after I read your blog.
I Googled it and it actually exists!
It's fun and a change of scenery if nothing else.
Have you tried extreme sports?
Sorry if that seems out of context. I have never suggested that to anyone, but that's what stuck in my head after I read your blog.
I Googled it and it actually exists!
It's fun and a change of scenery if nothing else.
It is somewhat comforting to have someone so perfectly encapsulate some of the emotional context of this struggle. Such a strange thing when the mere act of living is done due to a sense of duty to others rather than any joy acquired by the person living said life. Thinking of you and hoping the dark you doesn't get you.
I have have been reading (and very much enjoying) your blog the whole way through the manbatical to now. It seems a very strange dynamic - to be privileged to read your private (publicly private?) thoughts without having to share with you any of my own. I have written you comments several times and deleted them. Mostly out of fear that I might say the wrong thing. So fears aside, here goes.
I have been moved by the honesty of your writing, the bravery you must have to be able to share publicly something so difficult and at the same time the sense of humor you seem to posses even in some very dark moments. I thank you for taking us into these dark moments with you, describing in such detail the rooms that lie at the end of long hallways that many of us have glanced down but not had the courage or misfortune to visit. I believe it is a gift to us, helping us understand ourselves or our loved ones better.
I disagree with you on one point though - that you must love yourself in order to love others. I think that the compassion and love we are able to show to others can serve as a reminder on how to better show it to ourselves. I remember not that long ago, in a particularly low moment, I was venting to my best friend and saying some pretty shitty things about myself. She stopped me and said "Please don't say those things about my best friend. It hurts me to hear someone speak badly about her and I don't believe any of it's true. Would you for a second every say such cruel things about me?". Of course I wouldn't. I love her so much and unconditionally. I guess what I am saying is that maybe self love is the last step for some of us. Or a step that we re-visit over and over, but not necessarily the first step. What I hear when I read your writing is that you love and appreciate the people in your life deeply. And it makes me believe that you are absolutely capable of that for yourself.
You're friends (with remarkable humor - no wonder you're friends!) have offered you their support no matter your choice. I don't know you but I too I respect what ever choice you make (I have had friends dear to me who have made each choice). I believe that if you make a choice from the bottom of your heart it will never be wrong. But I also believe that every day that you choose life you are most certainly right.
I wish you lots of luck (because that never hurts right?), and that you are able to find some peace even within all of this.
I do know what you've been through. I had a course of ECT about 12 years ago. I'm 31. I've been medication free for a decade now. I only discovered you because I listened to Ari Shaffir's podcast, and I only recently followed Ari because he was a guest on Joe Rogan's podcast. If you want to talk more, I can email you privately. Just say so here and I'll write you.
In a nutshell, you've become obsessive about your own pain. You're like a computer that froze right as you were browsing a website full of morbid shit and you can't reset the computer. I know. I've been there.
This is a very unorthodox move, but if you can get your hands on pure MDMA (use a testing kit to verify the purity), then a good, controlled MDMA session with a supervising best friend or therapist will show you that you *can* feel good again. It will allow you to self assess without fear or excess negativity.
I'm curious: what is it about living that you don't like, specifically? There's got to be a reason, or collection of them. Instead of a gratitude journal, you should list all the reasons you don't want to live your life. As George Carlin said "suicide is fundamentally interesting... the choice to voluntarily cease to exist. It's fascinating." there's no judgement here. It's your life and I believe you should be able to end it if you want. I just wonder why you would.
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