I’m More Tired than I Thought

I thought I was doing better. I thought things were okay. I thought I was handling life. But I’m not. I’m going to Mass in a bit and I want nothing more than to go to confession, receive the Eucharist, and die as the final blessing is given. I don’t want to live in this valley of tears anymore. I want to go home.

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Better to recognize it at least

Whatever combination of depression and anxiety this is, it’s a familiar one.  It’s the one that makes me want to lash out at others.   It makes me want to yell and make someone else feel terrible.  It makes me want to scare them just enough so that they want to capitulate and do whatever will make me feel better.

And that is emotional abuse.  So whatever this is it makes me want to emotionally abuse someone who cares about me.  That’s messed right up.

But you know, I don’t think I’ve recognized this before – not this specifically and not while it’s happening. And now I can identify it.  When I can identify these things as they are starting to happen, I can stop them.  And if I didn’t stop it in time  I can apologize and ask forgiveness with genuine contrition and remorse.

As much as it sucks that I have such an evil urge, I’m thankful that I finally know how to see it and stop it.

It’s a bad day. It’s well on the bad end of the spectrum of bad days.

I want to sit in a corner, on the floor, in a dark room, and pretend I’m dead.  At the same time I know I don’t want that. It’s not just “I know this feeling is irrational, and that desire it bad, and doing it would make things worse.”  I simultaneously feel all these things, each just as real as any of the others:

 

1. I want to sit in a corner, alone, in the floor, in a dark room, and pretend I’m dead.

2. I don’t feel #1 at all.  That’s not really me feeling it.  (Except in the context of #1, it is.)

3. I want to fight #1. (Separate from #2, wherein #1 isn’t real)

4. I want to know where #1 comes from, because it’s not me.

5. Fuck, I just want to be dead.

It’s a disaster inside my skull today . It’s a war.  I hate it.  The last time I felt this bad, someone came home and hugged me as hard as she could, and even though I was a dick about it at the time it was one of the most important things that has ever happened to me and I still think about it all the time and an grateful for it all the time.  If there was ever a day I needed the grace/miracle that would let that happen again, it’s today.  Please, God, let it be today, though not as I will, but what You will.

It’s about as bad tonight as it’s been in a long time.

Suicidal ideation.  The real kind this time, not the intrusive kind.  I hurt that much today, that it makes me want to stop feeling.  Not really.  It’s not a real desire.  If you’ve lived it, you know what I mean.  Don’t worry about me hurting myself; I won’t.  But I want to, even though I don’t.  I don’t know how to describe it.  It hurts.  So much.  So damn much.