Today after my car was repossessed, I fell back on the old familiar feeling of despair. I thought about committing suicide and researched ways to accomplish this feat. I thought hanging myself would be the most useful, but after thinking of all the ways that could go wrong, like just paralyzing myself and not offing myself; I realized that my determination to end my life wasn't as strong as I would thought. I guess since I have been depressed most of my life, I have experience in what these feelings are. My hangups in dealing with my disorder continues to be not asking for help and perpetual lying about nonsense.
Hmmmm. What stopped me from continuously having suicidal thoughts today? My bucket list did help. I thought about all the things I haven't accomplished in my life. Just how little I have done with my life and that made me angry. I lean on my ability to be angry to jolt me out of depression. What emotions do I display? Which ones are easy for me to connect to the surface of my being and which ones are very rarely expressed? Sadness, melancholy, sarcasm, bitterness, meanness are easy to let loose. Love is difficult for me to express and definitely difficult for me to garner from others. I suppose none of my emotional or character responses are expressed in the proper manner.
I feel regret. I regret not being the type of person that I have conjured in my imagination. I live too much in a fantasy world. I don't live in reality. I find it too cruel, too dangerous, too disappointing to live in such a place.
Ways for me to be free and unlock the woman I know that is inside of me. Tell the truth at all times. Stop and think; being judgmental closes doors to quality relationships. Do not be so easily embarrassed or shamed. Remember that I am a human being. Don't be afraid of positive wonderful things happening to me; even though I feel like I am scum; I am not more so or less than anyone else. Every person has a place in your life. And most people are deeper than they let on. Everyone has a story. I can influence any person's life for the better or for the worse.
The past three years I have not tried to make people's lives more positive. I have only focused on how LIFE has done me wrong. I let how others treated me dictate what type of woman I am now. This "woman" that I don't like is me. It's hard to live with myself as I am. I think about what have I done to improve my family?
What have I done to improve my community? Shit, what have I done to improve myself? Not much. And the years continue to pass me by and I see no change. What a waste of a life.
Perhaps that's why I hate myself so much at times. I think it's from the abuse I suffered as a child, but really it's from the fact that I let those people who abuse me continue to do so. As a child, I would clam up and was afraid of the world because I didn't understand the atrocities that were happening to me. I thought I was the only one. I felt shame all the time. I felt despair all the time. Periodically it would go away when I read books and used my imagination about happier places and happier times. As an adult, I lost how to balance imagination/fantasy with reality. Maybe I never knew how to balance the two opposites.
Keeping things in perspective. Having my car repossessed isn't the end of the world. I have already lost my apartment and already wrecked my credit by not paying my credit cards. The illusion that I was a responsible adult is gone, but this day forward I can be what I only dreamed.
Side note: This writing shit actually has me feeling better. Weird. I guess those psychologists, psychiatrists, social workers, authors, poets, artists of all types were on to something.
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