Sad, Sad, Sad

Lately my mood has been lower than the bottom of a shoe, teeming with dog poop, resulting in my vacillating between thoughts of suicide and admitting myself into a hospital. I got through the night with the help of an extra pill and will keep myself busy today, hoping this black feeling will pass. I asked a fellow mom, struggling with similar problems, how she manages to not drive herself crazy with worry over her mentally ill son. She said she thinks of herself as part of a team and tries not to dwell on bad outcomes. Unfortunately, I’m no longer on a team. I’ve been banished to the naughty corner so now the good things that happen don’t compensate for the bad. When my head screams stop obsessing, I feel incapable of heeding its advice since my thoughts are stuck in mud. I’d try ECT, but I don’t want to risk memory loss because of my writing, a place where I’m actually making progress. One of my short stories was recently picked for an anthology. Besides payment, I will receive royalties; a first.

On another note … I mentioned in an earlier post that a few trolls are suing the city where I reside for allowing a clubhouse for the mentally ill to open and operate. Last week we went to superior court and the judge wants to tour the property and our facility. We are located in a wing of a church on a ten acre piece of land so hardly anyone notices we are here (except for our supporters and the trolls). You’d think some folks would have better ways to spend their money, but apparently $40,000 is worth it to get the mentally ill out of their neighborhood. While I wouldn’t wish tragedy on anyone (okay, maybe I would), in the scheme of things, what goes round comes round and maybe that one person in four with a MI will hit a member of the opposition. I never thought this would happen to my family. Now I know better.


About waywardweed

I am a consumer and parent of two sons, one with a mental illness and the other a third-year law student.
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8 Responses to Sad, Sad, Sad

  1. Justine-Paula Robilliard says:

    Wow, it has been a while since you last posted and I wondered what had happened.. Could I rent a room in the clubhouse? I don’t need more than a tiny closet.. and I will do the dishes!!!

    Yeah, I have been going between should I actually go and kill myself to, not following through, suicide is actually damn difficult to follow through… I like the idea of being dead, that is the pain and worry free part, the stress free part, yet I cannot actually follow through..

    I wish that being admitted to hospital will solve my problems, but it is only a sad delaying thing, you cannot escape from the problems, and I wonder why am I struggling to 1-remain living, 2-sane, what is stopping me from 1-killing myself, 2-going inside my mind, and not coming back…

    There is nothing about me that is all that good, I have not committed any criminal offence that would make me a person you would hate.. I have made the odd stupid comment, done that stupid thing at work, ok, I am TS.. maybe it is that…

    I know that inside I am dying.. at some point something is going to snap.. what a wonderful glorious waste it will be…


  2. waywardweed says:

    Hi Justine,
    It’s good to hear from you. I don’t post that often because I am a slow writer and also because I have nothing new to say. My issues remain the same. But enough about me… I wish I could give you a magic pill to help you feel better (you are a good person) and I also wish there was a place for you to go like we have here (although as I wrote, the trolls are trying to take it away from us). It is so important to not be alone when you feel like shit. Have you checked out all your options regarding drop-in centers, clubhouses, etc. in your area?

    • Justine-Paula Robilliard says:

      I wish that there was a place for mental health people to go to, but there is just nothing, mental health is not a huge priority here, this is africa after all.. Land of dictators and money grabbers…

      We have trolls here, this is africa after all, it is what the media in the US makes it out to be.. My country may not be as bad as all the countries to the north… but in a few weeks it could be…

      No I am not a good person, good things happen to good people, and believe me, I have wondered what it is that stops good things from happening to me.. It must be that I am not good…

      I made a few mistakes growing up, and now I have no idea, shit I am scared out of my mind, I am surprised that actually I survived this long, it is not going to be any better from here on in.. every day is a day closer to being old, and I am not prepared for that.. I am not planning on being around to be old.. Hell I was not planning to make to 30 years old, and I am now 36 years old.. 40 seems way way too far and God help me if that comes… I am actually sick from all the stress… Sorry

  3. waywardweed says:

    You are as good as anyone else, and just by questioning it means you are probably better than most. You have a big heart. We all make mistakes. It’s too bad that there isn’t a place nearby for people with MI to go. There must be alternatives–not specifically for MI but places to hang out. Check the newspapers and libraries for hobby-type groups (you like to write). Volunteering is always an option.

    • Justine-Paula Robilliard says:

      Thank you, I do have a big heart, sometimes, most times, that is a bad thing, this gives people the “right” to take advantage of me, or rather that because I am so generous of spirit, people take advantage, and I am left to suffer…

      What I cannot understand is why people for the most part actually hate me, hate me so much that the room empties when I arrive, that I am not part of conversations.. So here I am at home and will be here trapped in a sense, a prisoner of my own mind, of my own circumstance, of my depression.

      I am trying to build up the courage to go and actually end my life… I am not enjoying it one bit.. My life is like a cake that burnt in the oven.. The crust maybe a bit burned on top, but scrape the layer away and you have a brilliant moist red velvet cake!! But no one will know as I have been thrown away…

  4. waywardweed says:

    I was at a meeting last week where someone said that when a person walks into a room about 40% of people will dislike him/her (for no apparent reason), 40% will like him/her and the other 20% will be indifferent. That makes sense to me. Think of it … there are people you don’t like. So, in effect, look for the 40% that you have things in common with. When you are depressed you feel like no one likes you, but that is not true! You wrote that you are a moist red velvet cake. Try to reach out to others. Volunteer somewhere. Sitting at home is the worst thing yoy can do.

    • Justine-Paula Robilliard says:

      99& of people hate me and will not have anything to do with me, that is FACT!!
      1% of people tolerate me to a point, but that toleration is limited…
      After that, there are a very few number of people that ask how are things going…

      I am kind of hoping that my journey is up soon.. I am not missing life at all.. I was a crappy life from 27 ma7 1975—until know ~December 2011…

      All it would takes is for 1 person to say, I have a vacant job doing paperwork, I have a spare room in the office which could be a sleep room at night… IDEAL for me…

      One just has to hope, but even hope dies if it is not fed…

  5. ntexas99 says:

    I’m almost hesitant to post here, not wanting to begin a conversation that can never be ended effectively or with any sort of acceptable resolution, but I’ll jump in anyway. I’m sorry to hear that there are people in your community that are fighting against the clubhouse. If everyone took the time to actually witness the benefits of such a place existing, they would never fight against it.

    Struggling against the black beast of depression can be tough. It is a thief that steals away our peace of mind, and it constantly tells us flagrant lies that we have a hard time discerning as false information. It tells us that it will never get easier, and will never get any better, and it tells us that our escape by suicide is the only reasonable option. Even though we know these to be lies, when we are in a diminished state of mind and our strength is weakened, we sometimes find it easier to succumb to the darkness than to keep fighting for another day. Sometimes I try to remind myself that holding out for just one more day is my way to take back some of the truth, especially because I get so tired of the lies that are all around me.

    Your mention of ECT had me wanting to throw out an emphatic “no” towards the screen, (actually, I might have even actually shook my head back and forth at the computer, mumbling NO under my breath, without even realizing it). I have to remind myself that my own personal experience with ECT may have not been a good barometer to use as a measuring stick as to the benefits or drawbacks of ECT, but then again, because I am a person who has been on the receiving end of this treatment, perhaps that makes me at least qualified enough to share my own experience. I’ve never really written about it, and maybe I will in a future post, but I do mention it briefly in my post of Dec 27, 2011 that is titled On the Flip Side. It is just one short paragraph about ECT, but it is enough to give you an idea why I’m not inclined to advocate this particular form of therapy. Every person has to make their own decisions, based on the criteria that are specific to them, and to be fair, I will have to at least say that the very fact that I am still alive to talk (negatively) about it today may disprove all my objections. Either way, it is a decision that should be very carefully weighed, and it sounds like you are doing exactly that … weighing your options.

    Like I said in my other comment, I look forward to getting to know you a bit more by reading through your archives. There is a certain bond among people who struggle with depression, in that we really do have an understanding of how the darkness can descend without warning, and how we must fight to stay alive. I’ve never considered myself much of a warrior, but rather, more like a reluctant survivor, but either way, the end result remains the same. We’re still here.

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