This life is a struggle, and I am ready to give up.

This life is a struggle, and I am sick of the push-pull.

If you have been reading my blog for a more than a month or two, you know that I  struggle with severe clinical depression and anxiety. It got to the point a couple of months ago where it was bad enough that I checked myself into the hospital. It was one of the hardest things that I have ever done, but I had to do it.  They put me on medication, and tried to help me figure out some things in my life.

For the first month or so after that, things started to look up.  The medication, being new to my body, took some adjustment, but made me feel so much better.  I was so focused on only that aspect of things that I didn’t really pay attention to any of the other stressors in my life.  I pushed everything that would get me frustrated out of my life, no matter how important dealing with it might be.  It was the only way I could think to make myself feel better.

But here I am now, August 8th.  I have been out of the hospital about 1.5 months.  And I am right back where I began.  Despite my meds, my depression is through the roof.  My level of anxiety is just as high as before, if not higher.  The only difference is that with my meds, it doesn’t manifest itself physically as much as it did before.  I still eat, sleep(too much, though… it is near impossible to get out of bed), and go to work.  I don’t have physical panic attacks.  But inside, in my heart and in my mind, my struggle is ten times worse than before.  All I want to do is cry, all the times.  I feel completely hopeless and helpless.  I am a wreck inside.  And this has been going on for a few weeks now.  My only break from it was when I was on vacation and had a wonderful person and a beautiful city to distract me.

When I put myself in the hospital, all of these things were manifesting themselves physically.  Now I just can’t get them out.  I want to cry but can’t.  I want to scream but can’t.  I want to get it out, but can’t.  And I don’t know which is worse, how I was before the meds or this.  Before the meds and before the hospital, I just wanted to die.  I was so sick of not being able to function normally that I just wanted to die.  But now… now I can function normally but everything is eating me away inside.  And that makes me want to die.

Honestly, I feel closer to suicide now than I did before the hospital and the meds.  I don’t think I could ever kill myself, but I wish I could.  I find myself saying in my head and even to friends things like “I just want to make it all end.”  Or when Tommie made a comment yesterday about how we could die freakishly anywhere, like being hit by a bus on our drive home from McDonald’s, I said something along the lines of  “Sounds great to me… at least this would be over then.”  I constantly find myself saying and thinking these things.

I know that where I am at is not healthy.  And maybe I should get my meds looked at.  I don’t know.  But the fact of the matter is that even if I do, it will not take away the things in my life that are causing me stress.  I work at a job I hate, am in too much debt, am not in school, and I feel completely unsuccessful.  And I want to fix these things, but it is all cyclical.  And going in to the doctor or seeing my therapist because I am in such an unhealthy state will simply add to the debt.  And it is frustrating.  I just don’t know what to do.

And I know that some people reading this might think that I am being whiny, or trying to get attention, or any litany of stupid things.  But the simple fact is, I am writing about it because it is the only way I can seem to get it out.  It is the only way I am still able to express how I feel inside.