I'm white. I'm straight. I have the most beautiful daughter, I love her to pieces and I'm so very proud of her. Sure I have a shitty annoying illness that there's no getting rid of but basically I should be reasonably happy. So why then do I feel so utterly shitty? So close to suicidal thoughts I can feel them starting to open the door?
I know. And I will seek help, because it just isn't an option no matter what I feel. I'm more in control than I feel like I am.
It's just another straw, breaking my back. A person I trusted as a friend, who I believed understood that his friendship was what mattered to me, that the irritating boy/girl crap was not a real problem. I would never have done anything to hurt him. I would never have done anything to hurt his girlfriend, who I also counted as a friend. But apparently not. So now I have lost two friends at a time when I need all the friends I can get.
Because the next straw in the line is my freaking stupid illness getting so much worse. The pain is almost unbearable, I'm trying to limit the amount of narcotic I'm taking to alleviate the pain but to do that I have to tolerate being in a lot of pain during the day so that I can take enough pain killer to let me sleep at night. And the more I hurt, the harder it is to keep a grip on reality and not just spiral down into the pool of black liquid in my soul. (Wow, that was really pretty Emo - I clearly need a good slapping).
I have friends. I have friends in layers. And at the moment the top layer is feeling very empty. I'm not very good at trusting people, human nature scares me. I can blame some of that on cocknozzle (some people know exactly who I mean by that, if you don't then it's none of your business) but really I've always been like that, or at least for as long as I can remember. I think it mostly stems from losing my mother when I was very young. As much as I don't blame anyone for that, there is still a huge hesitancy in letting people become a part of my life. Because I'm afraid of losing people, and I always blame myself when I do. Which means that, even though I actually don't know what happened with my friends, even though I can't pin point a thing to blame myself for - it's me that I hate for this. Whatever it was it MUST have been my fault. Because I suck. Anyway it's patently obvious that I suck at relationships, so obviously my fault.
I'm abandoning ship. Even though these mad people that I hang around with are really the only people that I cope with well enough to have real human interaction with. So to abandon ship, is to crawl back under my rock. 'Normal' people, I just can't cope with, simply cannot relate to enough to have normal relationships with. I need weirdos. Or I need to be alone. Alone is not a good option, but it's better than hanging around feeling like I'm constantly about to injure the people I care about. Hanging around wondering what the hell I did THIS time.
Depression is a weird thing. It really isn't about reality at all. It's about the things that have become reality to you, sometimes even when you know it's ridiculous. It's about feeling like no one really cares, even when you actually know they do. It's about the little things. It's about letting those little things grow out of all proportion until you are being drowned in them. People always seem to want there to be some simple and obvious cause, but sometimes there isn't, or sometimes it's a complicated mess of things that just piled up until you popped.