Trash
Only two weeks of this bullshit left and I’m out. Clinicals pretty much sucked this week. There are some nurses that want to get irritated when I can’t give them a fucking immediate answer, as if I’ve been there for ten years or something. I don’t care if they have the more stressful job; I didn’t make you become a damn nurse, and if you don’t like being one, who the hell is stopping you from quiting? They’re no good to anyone with the kind of negativity I left behind today. I have enough of that.
I would not recommend this course to anyone unless they’re ready to deal with feeling like they want to put a bullet through their head. I’m about ready to pick a date and time to jump. Anything would seem better than trying to fit into something you’re just not made for.
There’s nothing I can hold onto. Not one friend stuck around from my past, I can’t connect with anyone new in the present. What good was I ever? No one knows how to help me because I could never bring myself to ask for it. I’m alone in trying to disappear. I’m weaker than I already assumed myself; I don’t believe when others tell me I am smart or that I have talent; It can’t save me or anyone else, for all that it could mean. We all still die. And we all still suffer as we wait in line.
I don’t want to wake up again. I don’t have anything more to give.
May 22, 2009 at 8:14 pm
I hate it when people get into a mood then decide the only way to make it better is to drag you down with them. It’s a cruel way to be, and at least people like you or me make an attempt to go off by ourselves so we don’t bother anyone in our depression. Those people aren’t worth it; I hope you keep remembering that. They don’t have to mean anything to you, not a damn thing.
As for the friends…I’m in the same situation. It’s not like I can just get out and meet somebody, then sit there confessing how I want to die so badly sometimes that it becomes a physical ache. I couldn’t have even done that when I /had/ friends—it’s not as though they would have taken me seriously or even known what to do if they had. I know how difficult it is to not have someone physically there to listen and sympathize or at least try and convince you that you’re thinking about something you shouldn’t be.
I’m not under any illusions; I realize that being at the distance we’re at, the only thing I can offer is words. I can’t be there to help you in the sense that you need it. Because yes, in many ways, we are alone. But as always, I can still talk to you, and would be more than happy to at any time you ever need it.
You are smart, and you are talented. I wouldn’t tell you such things if they weren’t the truth. My room has bits of your art everywhere because I think it is beautiful, not because I feel like I have to say it’s good, but because I know it is good.
I’m useless when it comes to telling you why you should keep trying. I say the same things over and over, maybe because I’m scared. Because I truly don’t know. My reasons are becoming foggy, but I know that doing things I enjoy makes it bearable. I also know that taking action—taking hold of your life—at the precise moment you have given up, can also help. I threw myself into job searching. I hate it, but I’m doing it, even though I don’t believe anything will result from it.
As depressing as it is, all you can do is try. I know what it’s like to not want any of this, to hate it, deeply, like you hate nothing else. People are assholes, and life is an act of pain for the most part. But it does go on, and there are people in it who care genuinely, even if it sometimes is so fleeting.
Two more weeks. You’ve lasted years, so what is a few more weeks of hell? You are doing extraordinarily well, whether you acknowledge it or not. You’ve made it farther than you ever expected, and you can keep making it. I really believe that.
May 23, 2009 at 9:22 am
I seriously cried when I read your response. I don’t know what’s going on with me and I have to admit, it’s scaring me a little. I am so sorry for being as self-absorbed as I know I sound these days. It’s getting to me, but I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you to talk to. You really are the support I’ve had with me throughout all of these new things I’m putting myself through. And I know you are trying your best to look for work and to put yourself out there. You don’t need me bringing you down or distracting you…
I have read your last entry btw. I read everything you put up, but I didn’t want to interrupt the conversation you were having with the other poster you talk to. I’m excited for you with all the chances you are taking. I appreciate how strong you are. It’s a great example I am trying to follow; being willing to sell myself and be outgoing in an interview, being willing to do anything at all really….To stay committed to something and go through everything that presents itself no matter how you really feel.
I’ve still got a lot to work on.
May 23, 2009 at 12:52 pm
You’re not self-absorbed, not in the least. In fact, I consider you quite a selfless person. There’s nothing wrong with focusing on yourself, particularly when you’re having such a rough time of it. You aren’t bringing me down either, believe me, I have very similar thoughts, and to have someone else voicing them is strangely comforting. It’s knowing you’re not alone, I guess. Sometimes we all need that.
There’s no such thing as interrupting an online conversation! ;) Sometimes I talk to other people, but it just so happens this person had an account here, so I can write on a post instead of using email like I generally do to address whatever they said. I always want to hear what you have to say. You’re the only person who even gives a flying fuck when I’m not doing so well. My parents don’t even do that—they see me in a mood and they walk away. Everyone does, really. It’s sad, because I’d like to think that I have enough humanity somewhere to try and help someone when I care about them, even if it would be challenging to an extreme. These are normal people, and they don’t even try.
Strong is not the word. Maybe determined. But I confess that my reasoning is comparable to when you dropped out of college; I feel like I am searching for my own death, I’m not going to lie. It’s like this is my last attempt, and I have no idea where it will lead or even if there is any chance in hell of me finding something that makes this liveable, at the very least. I’m doing it to do it, to put it simply, and I am passed caring if it leads to yet another dead end. As far as I am concerned, it’s all a dead end. That’s depressing, I know, but it’s why I’m doing it. Maybe it’s to show myself that I could live this life if I truly wanted it, that I could be independent and not have to always cling to someone for financial support, or when a social situation arises that I don’t want to deal with.
It’s a matter of trying to value my life, somehow, with some part of me, even when all I want to do is throw it all away and stop suffering.
Yesterday, when I read the title of this post, it startled me a little. About three days ago I was writing a draft post called ‘Trash’. Weird.