Archive for people

These Tears Are Never Enough

Posted in depression with tags , , , , , , on September 19, 2009 by imaginaryfears

Alright. I think I’m finished.

For real this time. I will never stop getting in my own way. Trying is useless; from what I”ve already done, it doesn’t even look like I know how to try and give things a real chance.

Today my mother and I almost got hit by a train. We were in the middle of a railroad crossing when I noticed the red lights were on indicating a train near, but the gates hadn’t fallen soon enough. I told my mother to back up the car, but as I said it another car pulled up behind us, blocking the way. I looked at the right and saw the train moving closer and my next thought was of not getting  my foot stuck in the tracks, because I was set to unbuckle and get out of the car. But my mother told me to hold on and she sped the car forward. Afterward she said “those people behind us are probably saying that was a close call for us…”

There’s no point to this story except to say I should have gotten out of that car and walked face forward into that train. The last two days I can honestly say I’ve never felt more infuriated with people as a whole. The waiting I’ve had to do, the nasty attitudes…I would love to reverse the mistake all life and creation has turned out to be.

I want to get this over with. Thinking about what I’ll miss or who will miss me or who I’ll hurt is not going to save me from failing at life or from causing myself more pain by trying to make it. Survive for what? I am not understood, I will not be missed.

One of these nights I’m going to try. I’ll go as far as I can. And if it’s not good enough, I’ll consider it practice, and I’ll try again. With the medicine all gone from me, I do feel more like my old self again. My old, suicidal, depressed for no reason, self. But this time, no longer waiting to feel better.

I’m one among too many.

Posted in Art, anxiety, dark, depression, people, personal with tags , , , , , on July 31, 2009 by imaginaryfears

 

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If I had it in my control, I would erase the world along with the whole universe. My trying has no strength. I’ve been waiting forever just to see that nothing can be done—nothing will move. I could yell all I want and plead for how desperate I am, but to this world and these people, my words are just more to add to the noise of every other number out there, pleading as I am. We’re nobody to each other.

I can’t go through another year of dreading the days I wake up to. I don’t think I was meant to make it on my own in this life. Where’s my motivation, after all? Why am I more afraid of the future years I might have and not so scared to cut them short, or even to try to?

Yesterday while at the store my mother and I went to pick up an air mattress and a pillow and I didn’t think we’d need a cart, but with my mother being the way she is, we went into the checkout line with both of our hands full of needed things. Well, there was this woman there with a cart. She worked there and saw how full my arms had been, struggling to hold a huge box, a giant pillow and how my mother had packs of paper towels and cans stacked around her feet. The worker refused to lend us the cart she had when we asked. Instead she told us “I can’t give up my cart, but there right over there” nodding at the direction. Then she placed one small toy in her cart that another customer decided they didn’t want, and walked off.—I can’t even express how angry I was after witnessing that. I’d just returned from walking the whole food section looking for meat that wasn’t even carried (with the box and pillow still in my arms) and someone who works at the store goes and does something like that to us…She could have given us her cart and walked “right over there” to get another one for herself. I’m just glad another employee saw it happen.   

It was really just more proof for why I’d rather stay away from everyone—because just one prick can make the whole day feel like a disappointment. But what I was most aware of, even before the cart thing happened, was how a dark mood completely fell over me while walking through the store. I pretty much looked through everyone I passed as if they weren’t even there, but the irritation was building. By the time we walked out I was sure I would go home and take the anger out on myself, but it didn’t get that far. Yet right now I’m sitting here wishing it had.

Maybe it’s my body trying to adjust to the 200mg I took the night before, or maybe my not eating enough and trying to calm my hunger with drinking water the entire day; the entire week actually. I might just be trying to trade in one kind of emptiness for another. I’d rather feel hungry physically than feel empty or numb emotionally and have no control over when it goes away.        

….I’ve talked too long here haven’t I….

The painting above is supposed to be an angel with torn, bloody wings. Well, maybe it’s not an angel, but that was the idea. It had to be dark and I tried my best to make it look a little creepy as well. There’s another version of this on my art page (it’s the first image).

Incomplete

Posted in Death, Life, Thoughts, people with tags , , , on June 8, 2009 by imaginaryfears

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I finished my last class of the course today. The tests went fine, even after a sleepless night before. I still can’t believe I survived my ten days of clinical training at the hospital. Everyone in my class will be getting their certificate, and three out of the nine of us will be getting an extra ‘perfect attendance’ thing (which includes me).

The relief I felt about being at the end began to die away though as I went home on Friday after leaving the hospital for the last time. Now that it’s all done with, I’m feeling empty again. All that I’ve done doesn’t seem like it’ll be enough still, to change anything. Honestly, I feel like I have to escape this. Get myself out of this life and out of having to decide and push myself, for what I don’t even want. My mother and I took a walk this afternoon and I was about ready to burst into tears, like I did that one day back in class. The doubts that nearly stopped me before are quickly finding their way.

I’m trying to write again, hoping I’ll regain something more familiar and comforting from before I threw myself into the stress of the last three months. I feel like I’m drowning, or as if I’ve forgotten that I know how to save myself—I’ve forgotten what to do.

I’m not happy with my life right now. And for some strange reason I feel disappointed in myself; failure digging itself through from the inside out. I don’t understand why.

There’s an opening for me to see the dermatologist on Friday about the unexplained rash I’ve had recurring since the middle of April. Maybe it is just my nerves. Or a sign that I really am losing my mind, but haven’t fully realized it yet.

Not Really Even There

Posted in Death, Life, Numb, Thoughts, people, suicide with tags , , , , , on June 3, 2009 by imaginaryfears

 

I had to go back to see doctors about this rash on my arms and legs. I’ve been telling them it seems to be an allergic reaction to the sertraline (generic of Zoloft) I’ve been taking. But first they wanted to brush it off as bed bugs (hell no is that the problem) then it was a ‘fungal infection’ they suspected. Now they finally want to believe it could be an allergic reaction of some sort. I go to the dermatologist on the 23rd this month.  

What really surprised me though is when one doctor basically had me embarrass myself, by telling me to take my clothes off to get a better view of the rash. Then when he looked closer at my arms, he pointed out “hmmm, you cut yourself”. I had a flash of heat come over me. Then I just kept telling myself ‘Get through this. Those scars are not what I came in here to talk about’. He wasn’t a prick or anything, but it still felt uncomfortable. He didn’t say anything further about them beyond stating the obvious. I’m surprised at how truly numb I’ve become to how other people react to seeing them. They’re never going to go away, and I wouldn’t want them to. So I’ve decided that when I do go to the dermatologist about this damn rash, I’m just going to come out with the truth and tell them not to be surprised with the scars on my arms. I’d rather be the one to state the obvious rather than have someone else open their mouth about it, about my situation of which they know nothing of. I’m over having this tie me down like it has. Being so scared….I have nothing to fear about being left with scars. It’s other people who are afraid it seems, because who in their right mind would want to hurt themselves like this, right? I wouldn’t want to be around me either, honestly. But I can’t really hate myself for doing something that has literally saved my life a few times now. That’s probably the hardest thing for anyone who’s not been through it to understand. Maybe I am just insane. Trying to defend myself from who knows what…

I’m still looking for a job. My week of clinical training is going alright. I’m proud of myself for getting as far as I have–to the end without missing a day. I mean, I don’t feel anything inside, but I’m aware that I do deserve to feel proud of myself, even if it’s not really there, if that makes sense. My mother says she’s proud of me, my instructor says the same thing (surprisingly), but I don’t trust it will get me anywhere. I am stronger for having gone through with this course, no doubt, but isn’t it really just a loss cause in the end? How far can I really get in life without having something inside to hold me down, to be my reason? I just feel silenced in an extreme sort of way. I feel very dead.

Trash

Posted in Death, Hate, Thoughts, depression, pain, people, suicide with tags , , , , , , on May 22, 2009 by imaginaryfears

  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.

A joke? To them…

Posted in Life, Thoughts, anxiety, people, personal, poems, poetry with tags , , , , , , on March 21, 2009 by imaginaryfears

       Unexpected news: I have the whole week off from school next week due to spring break. I will have time now to finish my painting and re-record a song. I hope my energy at least stays up, if not my mood. After what happened in class this week, the anxiety and everything, I’ve increased my dosage of medication. It affects my sleeping pattern and also causes me to have a short fuse at times when I get annoyed. But when that passes, I’m usually able to pull myself out of bed easier in the morning.

I’ve been finishing my class days feeling as if I just don’t want to come back anymore. On top of that, I’ve been thinking about some things I’d rather not fixate on right now. Seems there’s a certain amount of pressure and demand I can take before I get the urge to walk away completely. But I can’t say I didn’t expect this to be hard for me. It’s just difficult to think positively when you feel like you’re drowning even before you begin, you know? I think I’ll be so bad at this job I’m training for that I’m imagining they’ll just ask me to leave and not bother and waste their time. I tend to think it’s better if I remove myself before anyone has the change to notice the faults and tear me down for them.

Maybe I blow things out of proportion, but that’s what I’m made of I guess. I already have everyone thinking I’m just ’shy ’ or ‘timid’. They don’t get that this is a real disorder, something that is crippling me, and not something to be minimized or laughed at…Damn, who around really understands this besides those who have it to deal with? I just feel as though no one takes it seriously that social interaction has been hard for me to cope with. I think they’re laughing at me for it, you know? Just waiting for something bad to happen to me before they do finally see.  

Nobody knows how relieved I felt when I found there was an actual name for what this is. Knowing that it’s an actual anxiety disorder and that it’s documented may seem small or mean nothing in the end, but when you’ve gone years feeling so severely out of place and wrong as I’ve been, having any answer or piece of an answer is enough for me to hold onto.

My classmates are starting to wonder about me. I can feel it when I’m around them. I don’t jump into the conversations I hear. I mind my own business. I kill any small talk others try to start with me, with short answers and general words. Enough complaining though. I’m in this for the entire thing, no matter how bad I am at what’s to come. And I certainly didn’t sign up for this training to make friends and be distracted. I’m getting my certificate and that’s the bottom line.

Now, the poem below is odd but I brought it together using some old stuff I’d written and adding onto it. The title sums it up really. With the past and present opening up to one another and being immersed in the conflicts you thought were gone.

Regress

 

I’ve seen it in my dreams,

With keys and an inviting grin

The shifting glare of its knowing eyes

It’s form, stirring eternal winds

 

I’m aware the air is boring thin

The buzzing drills right through

I heard the stealthy specks of darkness

Creep, of midnight’s mystic hue

 

Weeping fissure; these two worlds link

Sorrows ricochet, the past redeems

I’m smothered in the poisoned fog

Of my returned riddance and wrong

 

 

A Bad Ending

Posted in Life, Thoughts, anxiety, people, personal with tags , , , , on March 17, 2009 by imaginaryfears

 

Today was a pretty bad day.

 

We were practicing at making phone calls this afternoon in class with a partner and I was so embarrassed by the whole thing. I did try to complete the assignment but when the instructor focused her attention on me and my group partner, I was surprised at how quickly I fell apart. Crying, and my breathing went out of control…She was pushing me and when you know how bad you already are at something, other people pushing at you and criticizing makes it so much harder. An intense feeling of embarrassment and failure overwhelmed me and I decided to leave the room, twice actually. I came back once thinking I could get through the rest of the assignment, you know, put on a face and say what I was supposed to say. But the feeling over came me again, and I left a second time.

 

And while I was out of the classroom I was thinking about giving up on my efforts to even try to finish the course and get a job. Besides social anxiety, its the depression and self worth issues always there waiting to mess me up. To have fallen apart as I did in class today….It just felt like a nightmare had come true.

 

I guess I’m waiting for someone to tell me I’m a fool for going to school to work at a job that requires so much contact with other people; talking on the phone-greeting visitors, stranger after stranger…I’m terrified, honestly. I thought about not coming back after what occurred today. It just doesn’t seem as if anything will get better. I’m stressing already, and I’m not even half way into the course…     

 

Tired and Soulless

Posted in Death, Life, Thoughts, anxiety, people, personal, poems, poetry with tags , , , , , , , on March 12, 2009 by imaginaryfears

  Finally, some time to feel something other than tension and doubt….

 

I have been getting very little sleep so there’s not been much time to focus on anything besides school. There are a lot of insecurity issues trying to trip me up now. One minute I’m at peace with the fact I am introverted and that I speak only when I feel I need to, and the next minute I am breaking beneath the pressure I feel of not being good enough by just being what I am, you know? I’m so hesitant about every move I make, to the point where when I speak to my classmates, I still have to slow down and think out my words to keep myself from stuttering at the start of each sentence. This just started btw, within the last three or four months.

 

I still have some poems I have ready to be posted that I finished before my job training classes started. The one I have below is about the lie I’ve kept up finally failing and about being exposed and realizing that once it happens, there’s only a matter of time before you lose yourself completely. When even the good memories of the past can’t convince you to stay and endure the emptiness. 

 

Soulless

 

I’d rather you be happy

With joy upon your face

Leave me in misery

Kept safe and in my place

 

I am as touched as you’ve been blind

As cold as your fear of being frozen

The unseen sorrow sings these thoughts

I am jaded and well understand

 

When this mask of perfection goes un-kept

And secrets shyly show themselves, you will

Know soullessness, the scene will be unkind

In striking fail comparison of the fallen lie

 

Reasons cede and loosen the grasp of memories

As deaths of past run cold through me,

I know you will get over.

More than sure, you will move on.

 

 

One More Mistake…

Posted in Death, Life, Thoughts, anxiety, people with tags , , , , on March 9, 2009 by imaginaryfears

   I think I’m making a mistake. Today was my firstday of classes and I’m already thinking about quiting. I know being a unit clerk is wrong for my personality in every possible way and I’m afraid of what I’m getting myself into. If I quit tomorrow, there can be a full refund on the $3,000 tuition cost. After tomorrow though, it’s a loss and complete waste of money if I decide later I want out.

But do I quit before I have another plan to fall back on? No one will hire me. I don’t think there’s any other area I could train in that would fit me at all. I’m hopeless enough. This whole world is one I have no part in; one I don’t care to have a part in anymore.

They are asking us to smile, stay positive, all things this job will require because it’s at the front desk…What the hell have I done? I was so excited a few days ago about being out of the house and learning some kind of skill, but now I don’t even think I can fake the confidence. Three months with an impossible work load. It’s almost as if they are lying about the success their graduates have had coming from this program…

The whole thing seems to be set up to weed out the weak from the strong. This whole opportunity to me has been about survival. Everyday I get closer to seeing that I may not be meant to last. I get in my own way by not only being honest about what’s messed up about me, but by emphasizing those things that are wrong. Because as long as I breathe in this life I will be at a disadvantage because of those things.  Is that not the bottom-line? It’s not supposed to work.

Last Option

Posted in Death, Life, Thoughts, anxiety, mental health, people with tags , , , , , on March 4, 2009 by imaginaryfears

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           Today I went to see my new therapist. She is pretty cool actually. I’ve been more hesitant than out right anxious about stuff (talking on the phone with strangers, following up on calls and all). Too tired from the insomnia I’ve had the last month to think far enough into my anxiety I guess. I am recording a new song too, actually a few new songs. My voice is the only thing ruining it all…lol. My songs are more like slimmed down poems anyway-I don’t know what I’m doing, haha. And there are some canvas drawings I’ve put off painting; too lazy for it right now to make sure it looks like I gave it effort.  

I really do feel like a shell of whatever I was. While talking with the new psychologist, I had to face the fact again that I have no outside social life. And that I’ve never had any real relationships with guys I’ve met in my life. She found it kind of hard to believe I’ve never had a boyfriend, but I told her I didn’t look how I look right now. Not to mention the fact I was never looking for a boyfriend, being so depressed when I was finishing out school. It’s just not something I care about anymore. Relationships with people in general….My personality will never be enough to keep people very engaged, for whatever reason I might want them to be. I’m too introverted and have stopped apologizing for it.

I might love life if I didn’t have to sustain it you know, if I didn’t have to eat and have a place to stay to survive…if the basics weren’t needed to keep the body alive. I may sound confusing here, but that’s where all these issues seem to stem from- having to sustain. I don’t have a reason to, I’m just doing it because I have not built up the will to get rid of myself yet. Nothing has sent me spiraling that far, not even near it lately. I’m not excited about school starting next week, I just know it’s necessary. It’s a way out of my avoidance from everything. I’m going to try, because this pretty much is my last option. Otherwise, for someone like me, getting a job will be impossible. I don’t see it happening any other way now. And I’m too close to throwing my hands up.