I almost gave up on trying to write a post for today. I woke up frustrated today. I’m not really sure why, but frustrated I am. Trying to no avail to change my mood, to change my thoughts, made no difference. Negativity is not so easily persuaded away as most would have you think. Finally, I gave in, listening to the chatter that so endlessly runs through my mind. I can’t remember what it was all about. Just another blank, so often is the case.
Around 2:00 pm I decided to distract myself with reading blogs. I’m trying to make my way through the Blog For Mental Health 2014 Blogroll, 10 at a time. At this rate it will take me weeks to get through all the blogs, but I’m impressed by the number of people participating. I’m enjoying reading the posts. Hmm, “enjoying” isn’t the right word. Some of the stories shared are sad and full of life’s struggles. I can relate, nonetheless. I wish I was more social to make myself comment on each and every one. Some days, the words just are not there. Communication with others is proving to be a real challenge.
Around 3:30 pm I realized I needed to run out for cigarettes. Don’t judge. Yes, I know it’s a terribly expensive, bad habit. Yes, I know they’ll end up killing me. Call it a passive suicide because that’s how I justify it in my mind. Remember, I never said I was a rational person because I’m not. Anyway, I had to thaw out my car before I could go. It took longer to get the ice off and warm the car up than it did to run to the smoke shop that’s closest to home.
When I got home, as I walked through the front door, I almost got nailed in the head by the rotting door frame that, at that moment, finally decided to fall down! I ended up pulling the top piece off completely because the wood was simply too far gone to be saved. The screen door won’t stay latched anymore which is the main reason for the rotting door frame to crack to smithereens in the first place. It’s flapped in the wind for more than a week, now, slamming into the side of the house. Each time, I jump, startled by the loud bang. For some reason, now, the placement of the latch looked to be about an inch too high, not to mention the rotting wood simply wouldn’t hold it in place. The screws kept falling out. I tried to repair the latch by moving it down slightly, but that proved to be more than I could handle because I’m not strong enough to make the new holes and get the screws in! I got so frustrated that I slammed the door shut in a rage and gave up.
My rage turned inward.
Rather than cursing this decrepit, old trailer, I cursed myself for being so weak, so easily defeated by life. Worthlessness, despair, hopelessness washed over me in waves of contempt. (The voice of compassion whispered, “Wait it out, wait it out.“) Endless questions filled my mind – how can things get any better? (The voice of rage screamed, “Kill yourself!“) Frightened, I opened the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline’s website. (Voices quickly protested, “NO!” Another, “They’ll lock you up!” “They can’t help you.” “No one can help you.” Still, compassion whispered, “Wait it out, wait it out.“) I stared at the webpage, at the phone number, tears falling. (Rage losing steam. Despair coaxing. Compassion waiting patiently whispered, “You’re okay.” Everything goes quiet. Numbness takes over.) I write to record. (This took me over 2 hours to write out.)
Sometimes, I really feel like I’m losing my mind….
And I’m still avoiding the questions asked of my therapist.
Why am I struggling so much to answer these? They’re pretty straight forward, to the point questions; but I find myself ruminating on the dilemma of life and death. The question of whether or not I have the “will to live” is still bothering me, let alone the questions my therapist actually asked.