Hope seems like a lie to me, an invitation for disappointment.
People always say have faith. Have hope. Blah blah it’ll all work out. God never gives you more than you can handle. Fuck that. I think we’re ants and God is an asshole stepping on some of us and burning the rest of us with a magnifying glass for shits and giggles.
I read a post recently on speakingofsuicide.com that said when you’re feeling overwhelmed and that you can’t go on, suicidal or self harming that you should use the “Three Day Rule”. Wait, three days- that most suicidal thoughts will subside or lessen in intensity in three days. I suppose I can see the logic behind that. It does make sense. But I’ve waited 20 years. Still want to.
I used to listen to certain songs or call certain people when I felt that way. My way of reaching out for help in the dark.
Life for you, has been less than kind
So take a number, stand in line
We’ve all been sorry, we’ve all been hurt
But how we survive, is what makes us who we are…
This time I’m pushing them away. Staying alone in the dark. Doing all the things that make my anxiety and depression more intense. Self sabatoge is a powerful thing.
So many years I spent being treated poorly. So many people in my life tearing me down. Telling me in ugly. Stupid. Crazy. Worthless. Different people. Different locations. None of them related or even aware of each other. The only common factor- Me. Perhaps they were right.
Friday I sat in my therapist’s office and told her of my self loathing. My constant panic. My desire to sleep forever; but that I had no intentions to speed the process along yet. My nightmares that are still there when I’m awake. My hatred of just being. She suggested I admit myself. I declined.
Yesterday, I went to work… I was in tears after a typical interaction with a customer. My heart was racing. My mind dark. I took all of my belongings off my desk and brought them home. Still don’t know why.
Today, I laid on the sofa watching my favorite movie trilogy. I haven’t actually paid attention to a single one of the films. I just want to sleep. My body hurts. My heart keeps racing. I just want to sleep.
I hate how much I hate myself.
Maybe my therapist was right.