Breath Be Not Proud
That's it. I don't care how what I'm about to say makes me sound.
One of the reasons why I'm suicidal and depressed is because I don't have a girlfriend. Dammit, why don't I have one?! I thought the saying goes, "There's someone for everyone." If there's someone for everyone, why is there no one for me? This makes me feel like a pathetic freak!
I hate constantly referring to the past, but when I was growing up, I never had a girlfriend. The way I explained this to myself so that it wouldn't bother me was that I thought some people were just "late bloomers" in life. I.e., some people just didn't pick up the knack for talking to girls at as a young age as other people did. This was fine with me because I thought I would just indulge myself in other things at that age. I would do so until either one of two things happened: girls would become more interested in me, or I became more adept at talking to them. So, even though girls are great, there were lots of other things in the world for me to get involved in.
The fact that neither one of the two things I expected to happen happened makes me feel like I wish I were never born. I expected that one day I would have more confidence talking to girls. That never happened. How could it? I was too shy and avoidant even to approach a girl. Girls never become more interested in me, either. I thought girls in general liked men who were more mature. I hoped that the older I got, the more women would approach me. Therefore, I decided not to do a thing until I got older. What a lethal mistake! I ended up wasting roughly fifteen years of my life that I could have otherwise spent gaining experiences with women! I mean, how long am I supposed to wait until women find me suitably attractive? Until I reach sixty? (As a side note, this goes to show how fatal life can turn out simply based on what one tells oneself. Moreover, I didn't realize my folly until recently. It makes me wonder what other beliefs I hold on to may permanently ruin my life.) This is so so so incredibly painful and unbearable. I don't have the ability to go back in time to when I was younger and still wondering about all of this and tell myself, "Excuse me, young man, I've got something critically important to tell you. Don't wait until you're older to start talking to girls. I come from fifteen years into your future, and all this time I just waited until I got older. I never got a girlfriend!"
This is so important to me because it's one of the reasons why I don't place any value to my life. I feel so fucking alone in this goddamn world. Feeling loved seems to me like the only way I wouldn't feel alone. Nobody loves me. Why is this important? Actually, I don't have the answer to that. Do human beings need love to survive? Technically, I don't think so. All a human being needs to stay alive is air to breathe, food to eat, and water to drink. However, I don't know whether a human being that doesn't feel loved would want to live. I do know that I don't feel loved, and I definitely do not want to live. Life would be infinitely more bearable to me if I felt loved. Love makes the world go round. If I felt loved, I would feel like I mattered again. I would feel like my presence in this world makes a difference. Love would give me life. It would give me a reason to live. It would give me drive, purpose, and motivation. If someone had a crystal ball, told me that for the rest of my life I would be broke, unemployed, unsuccessful, and that I failed at everything I tried, as long as I was loved, it wouldn't matter. It would still be enough for me to keep on living.
Now this may be going overboard, but the more people that love me, the more reasons I have why my existence matters in this world. More people would desperately want to know what's going on with me as often as possible because, since they love me so much, they think about me all the time. If I felt hurt, for example, it would affect the lives of more people because, since they love me so much, they can't bear to see me suffering in any way. I guess all I'm saying is that I don't know how to live without someone else loving me. If nobody loves me, what's the point? Why should I live? Why should I even breathe?
Saturday, February 28, 2004
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
Suicide: Read This Second
I came across this page on suicide the other day and I wanted to make a few comments on it. There are many wonderful things said on this page, but at the same time, there are many problems on this page that I must point out. First, I want to say that I have the utmost respect for what the authors of this page and what others like them are trying to do in general. If their message stops people from committing suicide, as I'm sure it does, then I think that's wonderful. Having said that, I must add that the statements made on this page are not guaranteed to help every suicidal person. If there's anything worse than reading something that's not helpful, it's reading something that you're told is supposed to be helpful but isn't.
The page delivers a very soothing message filled with care, understanding, and empathy for people who are thinking about suicide. It goes on to state that suicidal feelings result when pain exceeds pain-coping resources. Therefore, to eliminate those feelings you must reduce your pain or increase your coping resources. It sounds very nice and neat. However, it doesn't tell you what I, being a suicide veteran myself, have learned, which is that that's much easier said than done. I've tried to do both things for the past eleven years, and I'm still just as suicidal as ever. Before you even think of saying that eleven years isn't long enough, let me just add that it's been eleven years too many. It shouldn't have lasted more than one day after I started being suicidal.
Next, it gives five "things to think about," obviously intended to be of help to the suicidal person. I have thought about them, however, and my conclusions make me feel worse. First, it states that people do survive suicidal feelings. How? I must have read at least a hundred stories about depressed and/or suicidal people who have gone on to live happy lives. None of these people, however, had to deal with the same set of problems that I must suffer through today. The circumstances that led them to become suicidal differed enough from mine to the extent that if I tried to imitate what they did to survive, it would have no effect in my life. Second, it says to wait 24 hours before doing anything. Or a week. Motherfucker, I've waited for eleven years! When you look back at eleven years of pointless suffering, clearly the humane thing to have done was to put myself out of misery at day one. Third, it erroneously states that people turn to suicide because they seek relief from pain. Therefore, suicide doesn't solve this problem because, since they're dead, they won't have the ability to feel the relief that they seek, or anything else. That scintillating sample of sophistry would have set the Sophists themselves salivating. People turn to suicide because they seek an end to pain. They could care less whether they feel "relieved" or not. They pay a small price by sacrificing any feelings they may have had if they decided not to commit suicide in exchange for ending their pain now.
Fourth, it tells you to contact someone who will help, and it lists a few publicly available resources. That's a great idea as long as you are aware of people's limitations. People come, and people go. The person helping me can only be with me for a finite amount of time. He or she will not always be there for me 24/7. I believe I need that, because I can't stand living in my body for more than one second. Nobody can live my life except me. No one walks in my shoes except for me. Am I to spend the rest of my life feeling okay only when I'm with someone? Is life nothing more than an endless quest for companionship? I can't stay on a suicide hotline 24 hours a day. Suicide counselors are suicide counselors, not babysitters. They have their own lives, too. After a while, they'll probably just throw me into some hospital. For some suicidal individuals, this may be the best thing to do. For other suicidal individuals like me, whose goal is to build a life in the real world outside of the hospital, this isn't a good thing to do.
It goes on to describe other benefits of talking to someone. It says that doing so may be enough to regain my balance. For some, maybe, but for me, it hasn't in eleven years. It also says that the best coping resource they can give me is another human being. Unfortunately, the first few paragraphs at the beginning of their page have been more caring than any individual or group of human beings has been to me in eleven years. Those words have lasted longer than the amount of time any other fucking human being has bothered to care about me. The last time I contacted a Samaritan, or a suicide counselor, or another stranger, it was a waste of time. The other person didn't tell me anything helpful at all, not because he didn't care, but because he didn't know a single thing about me. As far as therapy is concerned, I've found that slightly more helpful because the other person at least knows me a little better. Therapy, however, only lasts 45 min. a week. That leaves 7 days, 23 hours, and 15 min. more for me to worry about.
Fifth, it states that suicidal feelings themselves are traumatic. Yeah, you'd better believe it! Finally, it mentions that depression can be treated. That doesn't mean it will be treated. I've received treatment for depression for eleven years. I don't feel any better.
Oh well, I wish words could be my friend. O first few paragraphs of http://www.metanoia.org/suicide, will you be my friend?
I came across this page on suicide the other day and I wanted to make a few comments on it. There are many wonderful things said on this page, but at the same time, there are many problems on this page that I must point out. First, I want to say that I have the utmost respect for what the authors of this page and what others like them are trying to do in general. If their message stops people from committing suicide, as I'm sure it does, then I think that's wonderful. Having said that, I must add that the statements made on this page are not guaranteed to help every suicidal person. If there's anything worse than reading something that's not helpful, it's reading something that you're told is supposed to be helpful but isn't.
The page delivers a very soothing message filled with care, understanding, and empathy for people who are thinking about suicide. It goes on to state that suicidal feelings result when pain exceeds pain-coping resources. Therefore, to eliminate those feelings you must reduce your pain or increase your coping resources. It sounds very nice and neat. However, it doesn't tell you what I, being a suicide veteran myself, have learned, which is that that's much easier said than done. I've tried to do both things for the past eleven years, and I'm still just as suicidal as ever. Before you even think of saying that eleven years isn't long enough, let me just add that it's been eleven years too many. It shouldn't have lasted more than one day after I started being suicidal.
Next, it gives five "things to think about," obviously intended to be of help to the suicidal person. I have thought about them, however, and my conclusions make me feel worse. First, it states that people do survive suicidal feelings. How? I must have read at least a hundred stories about depressed and/or suicidal people who have gone on to live happy lives. None of these people, however, had to deal with the same set of problems that I must suffer through today. The circumstances that led them to become suicidal differed enough from mine to the extent that if I tried to imitate what they did to survive, it would have no effect in my life. Second, it says to wait 24 hours before doing anything. Or a week. Motherfucker, I've waited for eleven years! When you look back at eleven years of pointless suffering, clearly the humane thing to have done was to put myself out of misery at day one. Third, it erroneously states that people turn to suicide because they seek relief from pain. Therefore, suicide doesn't solve this problem because, since they're dead, they won't have the ability to feel the relief that they seek, or anything else. That scintillating sample of sophistry would have set the Sophists themselves salivating. People turn to suicide because they seek an end to pain. They could care less whether they feel "relieved" or not. They pay a small price by sacrificing any feelings they may have had if they decided not to commit suicide in exchange for ending their pain now.
Fourth, it tells you to contact someone who will help, and it lists a few publicly available resources. That's a great idea as long as you are aware of people's limitations. People come, and people go. The person helping me can only be with me for a finite amount of time. He or she will not always be there for me 24/7. I believe I need that, because I can't stand living in my body for more than one second. Nobody can live my life except me. No one walks in my shoes except for me. Am I to spend the rest of my life feeling okay only when I'm with someone? Is life nothing more than an endless quest for companionship? I can't stay on a suicide hotline 24 hours a day. Suicide counselors are suicide counselors, not babysitters. They have their own lives, too. After a while, they'll probably just throw me into some hospital. For some suicidal individuals, this may be the best thing to do. For other suicidal individuals like me, whose goal is to build a life in the real world outside of the hospital, this isn't a good thing to do.
It goes on to describe other benefits of talking to someone. It says that doing so may be enough to regain my balance. For some, maybe, but for me, it hasn't in eleven years. It also says that the best coping resource they can give me is another human being. Unfortunately, the first few paragraphs at the beginning of their page have been more caring than any individual or group of human beings has been to me in eleven years. Those words have lasted longer than the amount of time any other fucking human being has bothered to care about me. The last time I contacted a Samaritan, or a suicide counselor, or another stranger, it was a waste of time. The other person didn't tell me anything helpful at all, not because he didn't care, but because he didn't know a single thing about me. As far as therapy is concerned, I've found that slightly more helpful because the other person at least knows me a little better. Therapy, however, only lasts 45 min. a week. That leaves 7 days, 23 hours, and 15 min. more for me to worry about.
Fifth, it states that suicidal feelings themselves are traumatic. Yeah, you'd better believe it! Finally, it mentions that depression can be treated. That doesn't mean it will be treated. I've received treatment for depression for eleven years. I don't feel any better.
Oh well, I wish words could be my friend. O first few paragraphs of http://www.metanoia.org/suicide, will you be my friend?
Sunday, February 22, 2004
I've been busy trying to put together a FAQ about this blog over the past couple of days. Not because anybody told me to, but because I thought it would be helpful. In addition, I thought I would have fun doing it. I did. :)
That's why I haven't had the chance to write too much in the past few days. I met with my pdoc recently. I forget if I mentioned this here already, but he's a real piece of work, too. I guess he tries to care, but he ends up pissing me off more than most people do. I think he has a little overbearing streak. Sometimes I get the feeling he thinks he's so perfect that it must be my fault that I haven't gotten better yet. He acts as if it's impossible for him to make any mistakes.
At any rate, we spent some time talking about ECT. I don't think I'll get anywhere until I start getting those treatments. In the past, I always dismissed it as an act of barbarity that had no chance at all of working on me. How can it help me if it won't change any of the pathetic facts of my life? ECT won't magically give me a high-paying job or a girlfriend. I believe that these are the only two occurrences left that have any chance of making my life more bearable.
I've reconsidered this, though. ECT might be useful if it can change the way I react to events in life, i.e. if it can electrify the "giving up" response out of me. As I said in previous entries, right now I write from the point of view of a depressed person. Not only that, but I think, feel, act, and react like a depressed person would. If ECT can somehow change, or at least slow down that way of responding in me, I may have reason to hope. I wouldn't automatically decide that all actions were futile, that anything bad that can happen will happen, or that anything and everything I did was meaningless. Instead, I would at least give myself some additional time to think that through on a case-by-case basis before I jump to the "life is hopeless" conclusion.
As I described in a previous entry, I "learned to be helpless." I automatically decide that anything I do will not make a difference in my life. I do this without bothering to think through whether whatever I consider doing is actually futile or not. On the other hand, if I did give myself a chance to think it through, I could potentially decide that my actions do make a difference. This will at least give me a shot at changing my life, whereas I would have previously decided that I had no such chance. For example, imagine that somebody tells me that I should go out of my apartment today and do something. As of right now, I would tell that person to go fuck himself. I would decide automatically that getting out of my apartment just for the sake of getting out of my apartment is a waste of time for any reason. It seemed like it was always like that in the past. It was easier for me to believe that it would always be like that in the future rather than to try to think through for each given situation whether going out of my apartment would be helpful or not. ECT, however, makes that decision not so automatic. Therefore, after receiving ECT, I would take extra time to consider the person's suggestion. I wouldn't assume that going out of my apartment would be a waste of time. Instead, I would take the time to think about whether it would help me or not. It's as if I wouldn't immediately refer to my resumé of past catastrophes when making a decision. In fact, maybe the ECT will make me forget that resumé exists in the first place.
In any case, it will be interesting to me to compare my post-ECT entries in this journal to my pre-ECT entries.
That's why I haven't had the chance to write too much in the past few days. I met with my pdoc recently. I forget if I mentioned this here already, but he's a real piece of work, too. I guess he tries to care, but he ends up pissing me off more than most people do. I think he has a little overbearing streak. Sometimes I get the feeling he thinks he's so perfect that it must be my fault that I haven't gotten better yet. He acts as if it's impossible for him to make any mistakes.
At any rate, we spent some time talking about ECT. I don't think I'll get anywhere until I start getting those treatments. In the past, I always dismissed it as an act of barbarity that had no chance at all of working on me. How can it help me if it won't change any of the pathetic facts of my life? ECT won't magically give me a high-paying job or a girlfriend. I believe that these are the only two occurrences left that have any chance of making my life more bearable.
I've reconsidered this, though. ECT might be useful if it can change the way I react to events in life, i.e. if it can electrify the "giving up" response out of me. As I said in previous entries, right now I write from the point of view of a depressed person. Not only that, but I think, feel, act, and react like a depressed person would. If ECT can somehow change, or at least slow down that way of responding in me, I may have reason to hope. I wouldn't automatically decide that all actions were futile, that anything bad that can happen will happen, or that anything and everything I did was meaningless. Instead, I would at least give myself some additional time to think that through on a case-by-case basis before I jump to the "life is hopeless" conclusion.
As I described in a previous entry, I "learned to be helpless." I automatically decide that anything I do will not make a difference in my life. I do this without bothering to think through whether whatever I consider doing is actually futile or not. On the other hand, if I did give myself a chance to think it through, I could potentially decide that my actions do make a difference. This will at least give me a shot at changing my life, whereas I would have previously decided that I had no such chance. For example, imagine that somebody tells me that I should go out of my apartment today and do something. As of right now, I would tell that person to go fuck himself. I would decide automatically that getting out of my apartment just for the sake of getting out of my apartment is a waste of time for any reason. It seemed like it was always like that in the past. It was easier for me to believe that it would always be like that in the future rather than to try to think through for each given situation whether going out of my apartment would be helpful or not. ECT, however, makes that decision not so automatic. Therefore, after receiving ECT, I would take extra time to consider the person's suggestion. I wouldn't assume that going out of my apartment would be a waste of time. Instead, I would take the time to think about whether it would help me or not. It's as if I wouldn't immediately refer to my resumé of past catastrophes when making a decision. In fact, maybe the ECT will make me forget that resumé exists in the first place.
In any case, it will be interesting to me to compare my post-ECT entries in this journal to my pre-ECT entries.
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