I'm unhappy, desperately so. I'm more than unhappy: I'm sad; I'm depressed; I'm anxious. Like heavy weights chained to me and unrelenting noise piercing my ears.
I'm 53 years old; I can probably get away with looking like I'm in my early 40s. I'm 53 and I've got nothing to show for it. Went to college? Sure. I did do something with my second degree, and eared quite a bit of money for a while, but ow it's all gone. Fifty-three and no savings, no retirement, no home. No family of my own. No books written and published. I'm 53 and I'm living with friends because I have no income and the only reason I'm not living in a shelter is because I have friends who can and will support me financially. It's pathetic.
I can't find lasting work and haven't for many years now.It's come to the point where several people have begun asking if I shouldn't consider an alternate career! I don't have the education or training or experience for anything other than writing and editing; no one uses word processors anymore (the human kind, not the software kind).I don't even know why I can't find lasting work. Is there something wrong with me that I can't perceive?
Maybe everything is wrong with me. Broken. Sick. Non-functional. Incapable. Who else do you know who has spent nearly their entire adult life — 30 years! — in therapy without getting well?!
I hate my life, and I am so terribly disappointed in myself. Sometimes I'm completely disgusted with myself.I don't think I'd want to know me, much less be friends with me.
The only real thing I've ever done, the only thing that matters, was being with my Mom when she had cancer. Fifty-three years, and only two and a half months of it matters. And God! It was only two and a half months!
Some days I only stop crying because I can't bear to cry in front of anyone.
I've been therapy all this time because I believed that happiness existed and that eventually I could be happy. But I'm still so far away from it after all this time that I'm starting to think that I'll never be happy. I don't think I'm capable of it. Just as I am wondering if I'm even capable of writing and editing any more, or of holding down a job any more, or even functioning as an adult any more.
If all this turns out to be true, I'm not going to stay here. I can't. I won't be able to afford to live on my own and I can't and won't keep living with Griffin and Sabine. So I'll just move somewhere cheap and see if I can get a psychiatrist to declare me disabled and maybe live in a room in a house somewhere.
I can't stand this.
There are things I knew that I don't know anymore: that I was an exceptionally good writer and editor, that I could do an excellent job, that I could always find work, that I could always support myself, that I could live a life I enjoyed, that I could be happy. I don't see any evidence that any of that is true any longer, if it ever was.
I wonder if my life is some long joke someone somewhere is telling. It isn't very funny, at least not to me. I'm sure it is to someone.
Things just seem to be getting worse as time goes on. All of it, really. I haven't been able to stop it getting worse, no matter what I've tried and how hard I've worked.
I'm drowning. I'm drowning and I know it and I can't seem to do a thing to stop it. My first therapist said there are worse things than actually dying. She said that if a person didn't try to make their life better, try to be happy, they would die inside. I figured that because I was trying, that would never happen to me. Who knew it could happen even if you did everything possible to live?
I'm lying here, in a pool on a ledge midway down into the Abyss. Everything looks dim and fuzzy. I'm here. I'm dying inside. And there doesn't seem to be a damned thing I can do about it.
Did you see this one?
ReplyDeletehttp://urthalun.com/2014/08/05/exits-examinations-and-exacting-circumstances/
(If the link doesn't work, which it usually doesn't with Blogspot, the post is dated August 5.)
Sweet Skye, I’m so sorry and praying you feel better and happier soon. I’m going to ask every force in the universe to watch over you and help you. I’m going to do this because I believe with all my heart you deserve it. So if you should feel a presence, it will probably be an angel, a saint, or a being of wonder and magic. They’re all miracle workers, you know. You don’t have to believe. I’ll do that part for you.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry you are feeling this miserable. I don't have any suggestions beyond the ones you've already heard over and over. So I'll just send you love and big HUGS.
ReplyDeletePlease feel free to call me if you want someone to talk to. Or we can Skype, and I can give you that tarot reading. I used to be where you were, and it CAN get better. Really it can. I promise.
Also, it sounds like your antidepressants aren't doing their job. Maybe talk to your doctor?
ReplyDeleteAnd maybe I haven't mentioned it lately, but I love you, and I love having you in my life. You are of value.
ReplyDeleteWhat Deb said, all of it. You are of value. And you are an excellent writer. I hate depression almost as much as I hate cancer. It's just as insidious. And I hate that you're struggling with it. You're such a lovely person and it sucks that you're going through this. I'm sorry.
ReplyDeleteSkye, you haven’t replied to any of us so I’m hoping that means you’re feeling better or that you’ve checked yourself into a place where the doctors will check your meds. I believe in miracles, but I also believe in medical science. Chemical changes in the brain are real and they need attention. I’m still praying for wonderful things for you and I believe they’re coming, but I so want you to get immediate help, too.
ReplyDeleteSorry to worry you, merrymac. I intended to comment. I just didn't. Yesterday was a particularly bad day.
ReplyDeleteThank you all for your comments and your caring. It means the world to me. I eep telling myself to log in to the Bettyverse, but just haven't been able to make myself do so, even though the Betties are such a major source of comfort and support and connection for me.
I'm not ready for a hospital, merrymac. And I have housemates keeping an eye on me. But I will go if it comes to that point. Thank you.
This is the part that keep bothering me:
ReplyDelete"Fifty-three years, and only two and a half months of it matters. And God! It was only two and a half months!"
I don't understand how you can say this, or think it. Are you saying your life has no value because you don't have a job? Or money? (And that the ENTIRE rest of your life was a waste?) That would mean that during the ten years I was disabled and broke and unable to work, my life had no value. I don't believe that. Or that during the many years I was so depressed and broken, that my life had no value then either. I think every moment of my life as had value. And I believe that about yours too. I believe your life had value right now, even though you aren't enjoying it, for which I am sorry.
MORE HUGS.
Skye, I am sorry for the pain you are experiencing. Even though you might not be able to see or feel it, you and your life are valuable. You can rise back up. You are capable.
ReplyDeleteRight now, however, you might need a more intense level of help. There is no shame in that seeking out and getting whatever help you need. Big hugs to you, Skye. Big, big hugs.
Oh Lordy, I have had very similar thoughts this past year. The only reason I'm working is that I take retail, min wage jobs. The required education for the job I currently hold (sorting donations for Goodwill) is grade 9. I have never had a job relating to my degrees. And I have debt and no retirement savings, which doth panic me.
ReplyDeleteFrankly I expect there are a lot of people in our same boat, out there in North Americaland. But when you only see the people in your immediate social circle, and they all seem "successful", it SUCKS.
But as Deb has pointed out, none of these things really denote what our life is worth. If my cats can sit around being indolent all day long, and have MASSIVE WORTH, then presumably we all do too.
I hope you'll be able to find a foothold soon, as you have in the past. You are one resilient motherf--.
XXXXOOOO !!!!
love, Mabels
(And don't be afraid to go to the Bettyverse and spill some of this. Already everyone misses you and lobes you.)
London Mabel--I love what you said about your cats and their massive worth :-)
ReplyDeleteSkye, maybe you should try channeling your inner cat more :-)
I keep thinking that your therapists sound like the problem - that's too long to be in therapy without results. I don't know what kind of therapists you've tried, but you might be better off with an NLP or EMDR practitioner, or a hypnotherapist - they can offer change without introspection or understanding.
ReplyDeleteI wish you all of the best - you're in a dark place. I'm a stranger to you, but I look at your blog and I think: What a sensitive, articulate, likeable, interesting woman. She must be someone special to have made such good friends. God speed.
Skye, I hope you are doing okay. More people care about you than you know.
ReplyDeleteSending you love. Just know that there are people in the world who love you and care about you and find you of immense worth.
ReplyDeleteDropping by just to say that I'm thinking of you and sending FGBVs.
ReplyDeleteHello Skye - are you ok? I keep checking back to see if you've posted anything and you've been worryingly quiet.
ReplyDeleteI've been wondering the same thing. Hope you're okay, Skye.
DeleteI, too, keep checking back and checking in on you. You are in the thoughts and prayers of so many people you haven't met - I hope that brings at least some measure of feeling supported to you and helps you know how important your place is in the world.
ReplyDelete(A long-time reader/silent supporter, newly delurking for this comment)
Hope you're okay, Skye. Thinking of you.
ReplyDeleteHi. Just stopped by to check on you, Skye - I hope you're doing ok. Be kind to yourself.
ReplyDeleteHow are you, Skye? Checking in, concerned, hoping for an update.
ReplyDelete