me and july 08. 2014
if the rants and the triggers and the strong sad language bother you it might be best to stay away like i wish i could right now
i am two minutes away from crying. one of those cries that once it starts it is hard to imagine it ever stopping until i have wept myself completely dry and nothing
there are these blankets of depression – some are thin – like sheets – and some are bulky, heavy and have a stale smell about them.
i know why i want to cry. somewhere in those thoughts is an answer and i am trying to grab pieces of it so that maybe i can put them down on the floor in front of me and once there it might make sense – or more sense – because right now i am one fucked up spectator and it all looks foreign and like it is written in the blood that i can feel running down my forehead – steering clear of my eyes i am capturing all of this on a video and watching it on loop and loop and you don’t even know.
they don’t make drugs that can help this right now and they don’t make a form of meditation that works and there is no jesus or god imagination that makes shit like this any better.
it’s so hard for me to have disruptions in my life – good ones, enjoyable – and when i am dumped back into my lonely stupid fucked up routine it’s much harder for my heart to take. it’s hard for me to take good knowing my mind is going to make me pay for it when it is over. and on top of that comes a suffocating guilt – a guilt that i have created and that i have swallowed and it mixes in with my sickness and it makes me feel like the worst fucking person in the world. i spent so much time worried about my dad’s visit only for us to have a long talk on his first night. he told me he wanted to help and we would only do things that i felt like i could handle and for me to please speak up and let him know if anything was too much and we could just go back to the hotel and relax. he was being so nice and i had spent so much time in my head making him out to be such an asshole and i was scared for him to come and visit. and all he tried to do the whole time was make me feel comfortable. and every time he did it destroyed a part of me and i wondered when it was all going to go to shit. when i was going to upset him. how could i? what the fuck is wrong with me? everyone is going to say it isn’t my fault and i couldn’t help it and i know this but the fact is that i can’t help having such a shitty response to love –
i hate this. i hate all of this. there is not one single goddamn part of my life that this shit doesn’t affect and shred while wearing a smile and it just becomes a matter of how much it will hurt with each turn of the corner and each time i put myself in the middle of the street waiting for a bus with a distracted driver or when i open my wrists above the bathroom toilet or let me crawl closer to the edge of the world and slide myself off quietly while the world continues around me and maybe miss me for a couple of weeks until they begin to believe that whether i am suffocating in the dirt or i am nothing but a bottle of ashes – that i am not hurting anymore. please.
there are no drugs. there are klonopins dissolving into mud under my tongue. there are no drugs and i need something to knock me to the floor and i can find my friends in my dreams.
i don’t want to be like this anymore. i am sorry i am like this. i am sorry that i continue to be like this and hurt people and hurt myself and i feel like maybe i am going to wake up and can no longer speak without sobbing and the only time i am going to see the sun is between the curtains and twenty years. twenty fucking years. i am tired and want this all to go away.
i can’t open doors and find something hopeful – when is the world going to stop telling me that it is all going to be better someday?
does that happen? does that ever happen or do i hear that echo in my head even when i’m fading away?
maybe i am not supposed to get better. maybe this is it. now it just becomes a stand off or a contest where one of us is going to be the first to blink and when that happens it goes ten, nine, eight, seven, six, and duh duh duh…
world i keep trying. day hour what the fuck ever.
please please please just cut me a fucking break. it’s just too much.
~ by alltheavenueslookugly on 2014/07/08.
Posted in july14
Tags: anxiety, apologies, bipolar disorder, clozapine, crying, depression, dreams, drugs, guilt, hating self, insomnia, isolation, love, medications, mental illness, posts about suicide, self harm, self hating, sleep
alltheavenueslookugly 
Hey Sean,
Strangely, when I heard Jimi Hendrix sing All along the watchtower earlier today, I immediately thought of you. Why? I have no fucking idea. Do you?
Doc
no clue. the only connection that i can see is that i do like that song. glad the universe picked a good one. 🙂
Ah Sean, how I feel your pain, I really do. I’m not ‘all knowing’ I know, as how can I understand entirely what you are going through like nobody can with me, but I DO hear your horrible suffering and it really is horrible. I also am suffering greatly as you know too and I just HATE HATE HATE to see others suffering too and myself after that…
I want help for you and I and others. Something that can really help us. Even if it were to really help us but slowly slowly… I wonder if we just need to stop being as hard on ourselves and I actually do believe in setting very small steps and making tiny achievements. Just really small ones, little things every day. I know it’s shit and mine are like even just to shower every 2 days maximum but I try every day and to make sure I eat dinner because I always have cereal in the morning but don’t eat the rest of the day a lot and it’s a problem because it causes my mood to be even lower because of it.
So try not to be too hard on yourself, remember that not everyone is perfect and everyone has things to work on. Try to make little tiny aims to achieve like on a bad day to walk out of your house for 2 minutes and come back in. Don’t tell yourself you’ll go out for a 30 min walk or something because then you’ll end up doing nothing. So slowly slowly and you can hopefully build it up and these things will make you feel better as you go.
Thinking of you.
thank you. thank you. you always really do have good advice – whether i take ti or not – i know it is genuine.it hurts me just as much to see you suffer – to see any of us suffer, but maybe that’s just what we are supposed to do. i really hope nit. i want that sunlight just as i know you do. take care, friend.
*hugs*
Sean I guess we all keep fighting it in our own ways, trying to find something, anything that will make it better even for just a little while. I think it must be just human nature to keep on trying even as we feel ourselves fading away into the dark. I hope and pray you keep trying, I can’t compare my pain to yours, but I do empathize and feel what you feel sometimes. The difference is, that since my last hospital stay I have been able to keep it together enough to stay out. But I’ve learned to live with the crazy thought, nightmares and sometimes sheer ambivalence to life. It’s like a rare moment I can truly enjoy myself, even when things are going well and I am thinking cherish this moment it’s like I can’t wait for it to be over so I can go back to my safe cave, I know I am wasting time but can’t seem to help it. There has to be some way I can feel truly alive again but I haven’t found it yet. Ok I said ‘yet’ so I still have hope. Don’t lose that last shred of hope deep down in your soul. You have a purpose here Sean. Bless your heart and big HUGS, I really wish I could do that in person ❤ xoxo