The vacation “didn’t last” the way I hoped it would, in that I don’t feel the same as I did when I was on vacation. I’m sure that’s normal, and it was helpful for me to at least realize that I could feel like myself and that I could have fun. But now I’m feeling crappy again and feeling confused about it.
I feel like I’m pretty clearly still depressed because I still cry on basically a daily basis, and if I’m talking to my psychiatrist about my emotions. It feels like getting out of bed and going to work and just dealing with daily life stuff is a really big job that requires a lot of courage, and that no one can see how hard it is for me. I’m coming up on four years of singlehood, having had an abusive husband and then I boyfriend who broke his most important promises to me, and who mistreated me during sex. I’m not sure exactly how to categorize that So I’ll just say that something non-consensual happened.
I know it sounds selfish to say that I want someone, and it’s true that I want someone to care about me, to take care of me, but that’s not just it. I want someone to love too. I want someone with a deep voice who I can listen to while they’re talking, whose hair I can stroke, who I can make happy in bed.
A few ketamine treatments ago one of the nurses tried to explain to me that we are attracted to people with positive good energy, people who are enthusiastic about life, at Cetera. I get that, and when I have been out on first dates I’ve made every effort to be sociable and enthusiastic. I’ve let the guy do most of the talking, and given them an old if they wanted to cut the date short, saying “are you OK for time? I know it’s a workday tomorrow, so if you have to get up early…” And without exception they said they were OK and talked to me for another hour, but then didn’t want a second date.
I could guess what’s wrong with me and what they don’t like. I could be too fat, too smart, not stylish enough or pretty enough, or whatever. That’s a useless game to play. There are plenty of women out there who are less attractive than I am who nonetheless have partners. And I can’t change myself into something that I’m not and expect to have a successful relationship.
So, I’m single. I can’t help that things that even nuns and prisoners have community and that the solitude I have is too much to bear. I always thought that if I were widowed I would be able to bear it, because I would have known that my husband loved me. As it is, he didn’t and he left me when I got depressed.
I don’t want to live like this. It hurts, it literally hurts to be alive. I literally have Hardik. I feel like there’s an 18 black hole in the centre of my chest and a lump in my throat and tears prickling behind my eyes. Every day. I can see going for days or weeks and maybe a few months. Not longer.
So I’ve made a plan. I had tried stopping my medication in May, and got some pretty serious withdrawal facts so gave up and started taking it again. Now I’m cutting back on the two antidepressants gradually. I feel like the medication has been keeping me away from my desire to die artificially, and I want to meet it clearly face-to-face. My thought is that I can’t kill myself now, I’m just not in that headspace to overcome that and strength of self-preservation and carry through with the violence it would take to be successful. If my mood drops without the medication, then I’ll be able to.
So there in lies the contradiction of it all. I can’t commit suicide now, but am I suicidal because I’m making the plans to allow my mood to decrease to where I really am suicidal and able to execute it?