me and june 19

it is no secret to me that i am getting worse.

i’m existing in as lonely of a world as i can manage.

my sleep. not really.

some days i feel like i am just taking deep breaths through my eyes.

i could curl up on the couch and watch shit television for days and days and days – to stay out of my life. to imagine myself somewhere else as somebody else without this brain this obesity and vision problem.

my book words are coming slowly and i’m not ready to die just yet.

there are things that must be said first. maybe they’ll be important. maybe not. however, i do hope so.

 

i miss the conversations i would have with people that i have met because of this blog. strong people. amazing people.

you all will carry the words once my mouth is sewn shut and i am sealed inside a tiny box and even my teeth are just piles of dust that smell of cigarettes and alcohol.

 

if this was a physical disease, i would tell you that the pain has gotten worse and it’s something i can feel and i also feel the feeling of my entire self being slowly swallowed by a giant with hairy ears and can communicate through a series of grunts and shrugs.

it’s a humiliation.

and so fucking frustrating at times to know you are as good as dead and to wonder at least a few times a day what the fuck you are still doing here. am i wasting the world’s time? am i the person who refuses to let go – even though i’m hanging over the side of a cliff holding onto the one rock that is sticking out just enough for me to grasp it?

and now my hand is sweaty and it’s only a matter of time.

this depression is robbing me of everything. everything that i can enjoy. everything i never knew i enjoyed as much as i do.

i wish i could show you all how it slowly kills a person, right in front of your eyes.

the worse part is…this is not something you can just see. nobody can see what it is doing.

i feel like i’ve been punished and am being forced to watch the same slow snuff film over and over and over and i know the person is going to die. i don’t know when. the anticipation, the inevitable is a torture.

 

more to come when i can take an hour and the medication leaves me carefree for that moment when everything is possible and i can see the outline and shadow of a smile.

 

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~ by alltheavenueslookugly on 2012/06/19.

21 Responses to “me and june 19”

  1. No need to show – I know all too well its slow death. The dead eyes, the drooping eyelids, the sagging cheeks…all life, all strength drained from your body.

    Sleep is a welcome respite, if it can be had. Rest well, friend.

    • thank you. i’m sure trying. unfortunately, with the nightmares and such, i can’t escape much during sleep. makes me really appreciate the nights when i don’t dream, or dream of something amazing that makes me forget for a while who i am.

  2. Oh Sean, I wish I had something comforting my friend, but there are so few words. Empathy doesn’t feel like enough 😦 This is shit, it’s not fair and this fucking mentalness is so cruel. I wish I could take it away from you.

    I agree with Satis – if you can sleep, do. I’m a really hardcore insomniac and sleeping pills have made my life bearable at times. If you don’t have any, could you get a few from your doctor?

    Anyway, useless as it is, sending many (((hugs))) and wishing you some peace.

    Take care

    Karen x

    • thank you, karen. you are a sweetheart.
      my doctor is understandably concerned with prescribing me too many sleeping pills, but even now and then will throw me a bone. some of the meds i get put on do make me sleepy at night – so falling asleep is not really a problem as much as staying asleep is. i’ve also built up a bit of a tolerance when it comes to those meds, so i have to be careful.
      i’m seeing him on friday morning, and will be begging him to help me sleep.
      hope you are doing okay, my friend. take care. 🙂

  3. Depression IS such a fucking thief.
    You are right.
    And yes, it’s not like a physical illness, that shows when it gets worse, but fuck, you still feel it devouring your body and worthless mind.
    I feel like my chest is hollowed out and there is only a cavity inside my skull.
    And someone is scraping down these walls with razor blades.
    And I want to die so I don’t have to endure this fucking agony one minute more.
    I’m not saying this to alarm you. I’m not about to commit suicide.
    I’m trying to tell you I understand, that you are NOT as alone as you may feel.
    And your words? They just gave me the courage to tell you.
    I wish you Peace, ♡
    (and that your thief is apprehended and charged soon!)

    • yep, you do know what it is like. i like your description.
      it’s hell. absolute hell. and talking to all you wonderful people that write your blogs helps me remember that i am not alone – though the mind does a pretty good job of convincing me otherwise.
      thank you again for always having such kind words.
      take care. 🙂

      • Hi again,
        I have to say, I read your post on purpose today, because i am feeling all the things you describe, right now. And I knew you would be real about your feelings.
        And it helped me to write out some of my own.
        So, I have just now plagiarized some of my own words from above in a post. (I hope that’s OK?)
        So thanks again, for helping to purge some of my own black, black thoughts. ♡

  4. I have a son, perhaps you age, that suffers for schizoaffective disorder. A brilliant young man, much like you. You words stab me in the heart because I can not stand the though of either of you not being apart of this life I live. You have so much to share for those that can’t I do hope you can find some peace in the fact that there are those of us that truly need your insight and those of us that just need your presents here in the blog sphere. I wish you peace

    • Amen!

    • at times i feel like this is all i have left to offer the world. and if that is the case, then i am okay with that. it does warm me to know people are gaining insights and perhaps discovering things they didn’t know.
      as i quickly run out of hope for myself, i am still able to hold out hope that what i write might be able to help somebody else.

      my thoughts are with you and your son. it’s a shit dealing of the cards, and we can only do so much with what we have and who we are.

      take care.

  5. If only you’d see what a special and kind person you are. I’m so fu*king sick of seeing good people suffer. You deserve do much better. Honestly.

    Are you taking your medications as prescribed and how about therapy?

    Take care of yourself.

    • i have an appt on friday morning. i plan on telling him that i can no longer live like this and something needs to change now. the medications are keeping me alive, but there’s little to no joy left in it.

      we’ll see how friday goes.

      take care, friend. it really does help to know you are there for me.

      • I’m here for you Sean, even with all my s*** that’s going down right now.

        Good luck for your appointment onFriday. It sounds like a good plan. Hopefully something can be changed for you so you don’t suffer as much.

        All the best.

  6. Dear Sean,
    You write so eloquently about your self. It’s so easy to feel I can walk in your shoes. Knowing things are coming which you can’t seem to change, wondering how to get relief (aside from the obvious way). I too am argueing the pros and cons of just letting go and finally stopping this hell called living.
    I know there are people who care about me too, but in the end it’s not them who have to keep up the facade, faking for others. Being mental is such a personal hell. No, it can’t be seen or felt by others, we are truly alone. Hoping for a miracle to come my(our) way. I’ve just self-medicated, hoping for a few hours of sleep and OKness. Doc.

    • thank you so much.
      i agree. i know there are people who care – however, they don’t have to live with this. they don’t have to wake up every morning knowing they will think about suicide at least 5-10 times that day. they don’t have the shame, the guilt, the overwhelming sadness, the paranoia, the self-doubt.

      and they are so fucking lucky that they don’t.

  7. You matter to me!! I am sorry things feel so dark for you. I know I certainly miss our talks… know I am always here. Life gets busy and time can pass so fast… reach out to those who know what it is like. I am here. ♥

  8. It’s like you stole the thoughts straight out of my head. Sorry things are like this now and hope they pick up better later.

  9. I get it. UGH.

  10. yes. you do. 🙂

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