I am trying hard to figure out how I move forward. I won’t be so bold as to say learn or grow, just how to get by this. There is part of me that thinks it is not going to happen. That is a very tough hurdle to get over. Just how much will it take? Can I do it? Those are pretty straight forward questions. Often answered with comments like “you’ve done this before”, “you can cope”, “you have survived”. Yes, true. But just as easily one could answer, “you haven’t coped”, you’ve been in this deep before and fucked up”. Those would be equally honest. I know I have a choice. There is always a choice. If someone tries to say suicide happens without a choice, they are wrong. It is a horrible, sad choice to make. It is giving up, and giving in. It is admitting that you lack the ability or desire to take even one more step in defiance. Defiance of all that is beating on you. All the problems, and the pain and the suffering. I don’t want to die, I just don’t want to suffer. I don’t want to repeat this whole horrid process over and over. I don’t. I do not want that for myself. But the fact remains, I have responsibilities. There is no ending, not now. I have people depending on me, animals depending on me. It is standing here in the center of this that is just gut wrenching. There was a point in my life where I would easily have made a decision. Maybe all these years of treatment have done something. I feel as if my world has turned upside down. I am desperately hanging onto a life I am not even sure I want, with a partner that chose to walk out that door, when it couldn’t be any worse. I am wandering through my days miles away from everyone. I can see them and hear them, but it feels like it is from beyond a fogged window pane. I know I’m lost. I know that. I know how lost I am because the tears roll down my face at just the slightest contact. A text, a call. It doesn’t matter. It is just a hint of those people around me. I don’t understand this. I don’t know why I have descended so swiftly. I thought I was okay. I did. All I have to do is read back in this blog. How did I get here? How did it happen so fast?
Guess, the answer is somewhat easy. It’s called a mental illness. It is called bipolar. People don’t go from planning the future to rock bottom in a week’s time unless there is something the matter with them. The terrifying thing is this is forever more. There is no deciding tomorrow, I’d rather not be bipolar. No, it is what it is. And as I keep crawling here, that is all my sick mind wants me to think about. How many more times am I going to feel this terrible? How many more times will I have to tell myself, just wait it out, things will get better. What use is there in this? To what end is this suffering for? Why? What have I done to deserve this? I have never felt a physical pain that comes close to the torment in these moments. It is all encompassing. From the hairs on my head to the tips of my toes, every inch wracked by the endless pain of this existence. How could it even be possible? How can one mind create such horror. A mind that can be loving, and kind, compassionate and creative. How can it turn on itself? Tearing apart a being fighting so very hard just to get by. Leave me alone, I implore you. Just stop. Let me be. I don’t want this.
There are no answers. Just more questions and more uncertainty. For the sake of my loved ones and all the people who compassionately fight for me everyday, and for the animals that found salvation in me, I’ll promise to keep trying. I will. I must have faith in their ability to help me, and their conviction that I can get thru this.