life sucks. hope is gone. i want to linger in self pity. wallow in low self esteem. not sure what matters. or that anything matters at all. i don’t care. not even sure if there is anything i do care for. life is just unbearable. that’s all i can say for now.
i was feeling depressed all day yesterday and this morning. my thoughts were too dark to utter out loud to anyone except maybe to a therapist. since i don’t have a therapist right now, well, i didn’t really get to say what was on my mind. i tried to contain the thoughts and feelings inside me and prevent it from leading to self destructive acts. i haven’t felt this bad in a long long time. both the duration and intensity of how i was feeling was way more than i had experienced in about 6 months to a year. mostly because my mom is visiting me, there really was nothing i could do. so after being held to my bed as prisoner all day and all night and all morning, i came to the conclusion that enough is enough. time limit is up. no can do on feeling depressed any more for this week. i have a sermon to write, studying to do and preparations for new job coming up in few weeks. so for today at least i’m done being depressed. i don’t know how long my will power can keep dark thoughts from returning. i guess i’ll find out soon enough whether i’m successful or not.
i don’t really know why. i thought when i started working that i had to appear all put together. but in these blogs i had been completely honest and at times maybe even too honest? but i realized after reading a blog from a member of our church that there can be no anonymity to my story because it isn’t mine to keep private but testimony to God’s working and healing in my life. when i look back on the posts i have written, it’s such a relief that i don’t feel the way i used to feel. i had been too depressed to have hope or to think things could be any different. but God showed me the impossible was possible. i haven’t been hospitalized in about a year which is the longest stretch of time i have gone since getting depressed in 2002! praise the Lord!
i wonder if things i wrote and will be writing are age appropriate for youth group members…but then i realize as far back as i can remember i was unhappy…help didn’t come soon enough…hope was all too far out of reach…and if i could have known when i was younger that i didn’t have to feel that way, that God could and would help me, my life would have been totally different…and i think over time this blog will be helpful to those who are struggling with depression, despair, hopelessness, etc. so i’m not deleting any posts i wrote.
when i was in high school, a close friend of mine died before reaching age 16. she ran away from home and possibly took her own life. would she have been too young to read posts i have written where i am writing from place of pain and suffering that she would have identified with? if she could read any one of my posts and find hope that her life might be different if she could just hold on, i mean, if i would bring her back through anything i could do i would. but i can’t bring her back to life. but maybe other people who are feeling hopeless and lost might find encouragement that as badly depressed as i was that i am no longer feeling that way. i didn’t think i would live to see this day…but slowly but surely, God healed me.
my dad always said when i recover that i would be able to help others who are suffering as i had suffered. every time i heard that, i couldn’t believe that day would ever come. but now it has. and so here’s hoping and praying that any of the things i wrote gives hope rather than discouragement to others who feel lost, hopeless, depressed, suicidal… it’s something of a miracle actually. so i can only think God healed me. about a year and a half ago, my psychiatrist had lost hope that i could get better. she thought ECT (electroconvulsive therapy) was the only hope i had left. i didn’t believe her then and i certainly don’t believe her now. the only hope i had was in God, not ECT. maybe for some people ECT is what will improve their chronic depression. but for me, it wasn’t.
so anyway, long story short, blogs on this site have been written with honesty that might reveal emotions and thoughts that may be shocking. it’s all true. i lived through it. and i’m here. i made it to the other side. and when i couldn’t make it on my own, i had help from others, prayers, encouragements, hospital visits, phone calls, e-mails… thank you.
i’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. i’ve been going out with my bf for about 8 months now. and things are fine, more or less. i’m doing a lot better over all. successfully moved and starting to settle into new place in nyc. don’t really miss boston too much. but then was i waiting for something bad to happen? for a while everything was perfect, well almost perfect. then i started crying on consecutive days and not due to my reproductive cycle, thank you very much. and couldn’t stop crying even when my bf was with me.
so all that to say, is happiness really only a phantom of the imagination? maybe it’s something disney and hallmark and the marketing people at various places conjured up so they could sell movies, cards, chocolates, flowers, etc.
i was always unhappy. i was depressed. totally utterly in despair. that i can deal with. well, except when things got really worse then i couldn’t cope anymore. so then when i started feeling better after 5-6 years of really bad depression, i was skeptical at first. many changes took place that could explain why i was feeling better. i stopped working with the therapist i had for about 5 + years without miraculous improvement or anything. doctors on my treatment team tweaked with my medication. i started dating my current bf. i hadn’t dated anyone in over ten years before i started dating him. i mean, i dated. but i didn’t have a boyfriend for i don’t even know how long actually.
spring of 2002 to end of 2008 (my second depression episode) utterly sucked. only thing that was going to make it worse was to be treated with ECT (eletro convulsive therapy). my old psychiatrist recommended that and was banking that ECT was my only hope of coming out of deep deep depression. well, i wasn’t going to have my brain fried. so i fired her. moved on to a new therapist, new psycho-pharmacologist, and continued on with DBT (dialectical behavioral therapy). well, for about a good 8 months i had consecutive days of non-suicidal ideation or urges which had never happened before since the depression of 2002 started.
lately, however, after months and months of not wanting to die anymore, i can smell it in the air. the muse which beckons me to death, to take matters into my own hands, it is slowly but surely making her move on me. past couple weeks, i cried, overdosed mildly couple of times, drank, and thought about whether there is really a point to my life after all. yes. the question that i could not get out of my head for about 6 years, not even for a single day, it came back to me. and i started wondering, what’s the point? why work so hard at recovery? why try so hard to feel better? it’s not going to last anyway. life sucks, right? and being depressed and feeling pain and suffering in life sucks even more!
so today i told my psycho-pharmacologist that i’ve been thinking about what’s the point of my life. i told her i had been dancing with suicidal thoughts. maybe for now it’s enough just to admit that i’m unhappy. being happy for the 8 months or so, well, maybe absence of utter despair is like happiness. but now as i’m feeling better, it isn’t good enough just not to feel pain. i want to have a meaningful life. yes, i want to have a life worth living. a life worth staying alive for. not sure i’m there yet. or that i’ll ever get there.
is it time to give up again? i’m not sure. all i know for sure is that while in the past i was happy just to see my bf, now i cry even when he is there. i cry because i want more. i don’t just want to hang out, i want some kind of certainty that things mean something. i’m not happy just to read some articles here and there, or to just send applications out even on slim chance that someone might look at my resume. i want a job. i want to go back to school.
but wanting things, that’s what leads to disappointment and pain. so i decided i think, subconsciously, not to want any of it anymore. so again i am where i was before this bit of relief found me after years of stormy darkness. i don’t want to be here anymore if being here means i’ll be unhappy and if it means i live to testify to the happiness i don’t have.
this past weekend, i was visiting my bf and we went to no-rae-bang (aka nrb = karaoke) for 3 hours! it was just the two of us. that means each of us sang for about an hour and a half. mind you, neither of us are part of a choir or anything like that. i can’t remember the last time i was at nrb!
it was so sweet that my bf sang couple songs to me in korean. 🙂 i took a break from dating for about ten years before i met my current bf so it’s really strange not to be single. it’s so nice and absolutely lovely that someone (someone i like) likes me and wants to be with me (at the same time i want to be with them)! always always in the past it’s bad timing or some variation of unrequited love on either party. mostly i would lose interest in about a month. so i warned my bf too when we started dating that i expire in about a month in a relationship.
it’s really strange i must say. all the phobias i have about intimacy, commitment and whatever else just disappeared. not scared to get to know someone really well. not scared someone is getting to know me really well. not scared that he won’t like me the more he get to know me. and more and more interested everyday as i get to know him better. i mean, is this why people stay in one relationship for a long long time? never knew why people would do such a crazy thing. think i’m experiencing why anyone would. 🙂
so i’m wondering, i mean, i think the honey-moon stage lasted the first time we had to really figure out now to communicate better. i wanted to just get off the phone and sleep. he didn’t want me to just walk away from things we were talking about. usually i just walk out on the relationship all together, let alone carry out the conversation to the end. but somehow we talked it through, managed to end feeling better than when we started talking about stuff that was upsetting to both of us, and felt closer (at least on my end) than before too. but do things really stay this good? ok, granted it’s not always up and up and up and i’m not constantly experiencing feelings of happiness or ecstasy. but for the most part, i feel good being with my current bf than not. i think we’re both better with each other than we are alone or with other people we might be dating.
so anyway, plenty of things to blog about now even though my depression isn’t so crazy bad anymore. after about 7 yrs of hard-core depression and constant battle with suicidal ideation, being happy for an enduring period of time of any length is just so strange. i feel like i’m living someone else’s life! i know i’m not. i know it’s my life that has taken an absolutely amazing turn for the better. and that my bf really knows me well, especially at my worst, and still is interested in me and loves me. but man, talk about radical acceptance! there are times when i wonder if all of it is really real! 🙂
today is a hard day. one of those days when you wish you could just get to tomorrow as soon as possible. the past does not dictate the future. but it sure can contaminate it!
i haven’t felt suicidal in about 2 months, but still have overdosed once in the past month. i’m not sure whether or how long this apparent emotional stability is going to last. i feel like i’m only a few steps away from doing irreversible damage. somehow i always wake up with no organ damage or any other kind of permanent damage. but who knows when i may one day not wake up, or wake up in a coma or with serious brain damage?
today i feel like everything may fall apart, that everything may come crashing down and that maybe i better be prepared for things just in case.
i just came back from an appointment with my psychopharmacologist. i started crying while she was typing up notes. i tried hard to stop crying, wiping away the tears as fast as i could. i was hoping she wouldn’t notice. i was hoping that if she didn’t see me cry that maybe i could stop crying and that may be my sadness would just go away. but i couldn’t stop crying. and i’m scared, terrified actually.
when you know how bad things can be, and you know sooner or later it’s going to hit you again, well, the time in between is just time i’m sitting in the waiting room. and in some ways, waiting for the storm to hit can be more nerve wrecking than how things might feel in the middle of the storm. ok, so middle of the storm if bad too. AND the time anticipating or waiting for the storm to hit is bad as well.
to sum up how i feel today, life sucks when you feel crappy. time doesn’t go fast enough. the night doesn’t come soon enough. and the waiting is unbearable. so yeah, life sucks. that’s all i have to say today.
i was putting off blogging so that i wouldn’t have to process all that happened in the past week. well, now it’s time to process. and i process best by writing. so you see how this blog is practically necessary for me.
after i wrote the last blog last wednesday night, sometime after that and sometime before i fell asleep, i got rid of every last sleeping pill that i had. it all went down my throat somehow. i only remember the first batch. i didn’t intend on consuming anymore. i discovered two days later that i couldn’t find a single sleeping pill. i searched my trash can and the best of detective work tells me that i took every last sleeping pill that was in my reach.
i don’t know how i woke up the next day, albeit the sun had already gone down. i woke up to a phone call and rushed out the door to show up for my dinner appointment. i got there by car too. at the time, i didn’t know i had taken all the rest of the sleeping pills. so i drove myself to and back from my friend’s house. i only started suspecting something was wrong with me when that night i started throwing up everything i could until i had nothing more to throw up. my friend was fine when i inquired about his health the next morning. so i figured it wasn’t the food that was the problem. something with me was the matter and that’s what kept me up all night and why i didn’t feel well.
most of the time, after i abuse over the counter or prescribed medicine, i call someone and get help within the first couple of hours. but this time, i didn’t call for help. i didn’t think i needed help. anyway, i was way beyond any kind of coherent state of mind by the time i actually fell asleep. and by the time i woke up, the pills had probably done all, if not most, the damage it could have done. and so for sure, two days later when i realized i had taken way too many sleeping pills, that i was still alive amazed me and i seemed to be doing relatively well physically. psychologically, i was in shock, disbelief, scared, and lost.
i always wondered what accidental overdose is all about. now i know what it means and how it can happen! after i realized what happened, i didn’t call my therapsit to tell him what had happened, what i had done, and how i was doing. i was scared that in my incoherent state that i continued to take pills. why? why did i keep taking the sleeping pills? sleeping pills don’t put me to sleep anyway for the most part. i wasn’t trying to sleep so i don’t even know why i took them in the first place. i wondered, does my inner most self that lies beneath the surface really want to end my life? at the very least, it wasn’t trying to look out for my health! i concluded after some thought over the next few days that i wasn’t trying to kill myself knowingly or accidentally. it’s the list of things that i didn’t do that makes me conclude that i wasn’t trying to kill myself. i didn’t drink alcohol which was easily accessible which would have intensified the effects of the sleeping pills. i didn’t take my prescribed medicine, not even a single one. i only took sleeping pills that night.
part of me wants to live. part of me wants to not live if the quality of life sucks, as it has been for me in the past 6 years with severe depression. so if the quality of life can’t be improved, then the only choice left, it seems to me at times when i am under extreme excruciating pain, is to stop the pain and if life is what allows for the pain to continue, then it must end. anyway that’s something like what my mind runs through when i am not doing well.
i told my therapist last night about what happened. he made some interesting observations. actions i choose, when they harm me physically, psychologically, or spiritually, set me back from recovery. he said we could choose to work on whether to die or not to die, the impulses i have, and how i cope with the impulses when i experience them, etc. or we could work on how i might live life, life where the quality of life is desirable. anyway for now he said he could and would hold all of hope for both of us that i might/will get better.
so practically what does this all mean? i mean, if i can’t kill myself with all the sleeping pills i took last week (believe me i had a lot of sleeping pills and i took them all!), i don’t know what will get the job done. either i am unbreakable or God keeping me alive, protecting me from myself at times when i am most vulnerable.
what do i do next? i guess i probably will do things as i have been doing without major changes. but i will at least be aware as i am choosing an action, whether it will promote or hinder my recovery. i don’t know about the value or quality of life in general, for others. but my life, as it has been, is unacceptable! i don’t want to live the life i have been living. that life, i want to end! i will fight to end that life for as long as i can, even if it kills me. through therapy, through medicine, through prayer, through support, and coping skills, for now, i will fight to bring an end to the crappy, painful, life that is soaked in despair. if depression can’t be managed, then i, with my unrelenting depression, may have to say farewell to this world. but if somehow i can find some breathing space, some wiggle room, and ways to fight back the depression, i’ll be here that much longer. as my friend keeps reminding me, the battle remains to be fought, it is on-going, and the towel shall not be thrown in, not even if it takes my last breathe to continue the fight.