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crippled with grief
- Nov 8, 2021
- 335
Long one today. I have been very active on here recently and I apologise if I am becoming irritating. Don't feel as though you need to keep reading all of my ramblings. (A) is a TLDR update about the title, (B) is my followed-on reasoning behind it. I will also be drawing from this as my suicide note which I'll schedule emails out for.
(A)
Two things in sum; After reflection I have now decided that I am 100% sure in wanting to CTB and I have arranged to do so. Initially, I had planned to see out the festive season before I arranged a date and to give myself time to see if it was truly what I wanted. But I have now had enough time to come to the conclusion of my certainty for CTB. One benefit of anxiety is that you are very efficient when it comes to exhausting every thought process. I am now comfortable and have no hesitation about CTB. Any previous doubts or maybes have been processed. And with that in mind, now with how non-relaxing every second of being alive makes me feel, I am desperate to bring the date forward. I have now started to put plans in place for Tuesday, 14 December.
(B)
I saw another thread before and it got me thinking about how I would respond to the title question: 'Are you jealous of terminally ill people'.
And no, I am not jealous. Rather I relate to them.
At first, I thought 'guilty' because they are being forced to die against their will whilst I with no terminal illness want to CTB. Surely it would be fair if we swapped positions. But then I think who is to say what is terminal illness. Is mental illness so clearly not terminal? I for one are in pain and am going to die (albeit by my own method) because of it. If we swapped positions would our outcomes be that different? Is it truly down to me that decides the outcome of my illness or is my decision to choose that outcome decided by the illness? And perhaps 'I' and 'illness' aren't so bifurcated.
I emphasise with the situation they are in. They want to live and can see the potential of life and maybe experienced previously how happy they were. Likewise, I can see the potential of life and have seen how happy it has made me previously. But both of us are prevented from future happiness because of our illness. I too have things I want to enjoy but simply can't. I am not in the situation some on SS might find themselves in where they have no sense of direction or who they are or want to be. I do know who I am and what I would have wanted for the future. So much so I can clearly lay it out below. I am so sure about my goals because in the process of deciding whether or not to CTB and deciding whether or not to carry on with the pain, I have thought about what I am living for but why I am prevented from carrying them out. It is further proof that arranging a date (despite being less than 2 months since my first ever suicidal action) is not by any means irrational.
Education and current daily life:
I want to enjoy the daily niceties of uni life; The new independence, controlling my own day, working in the library environment, meeting new people, having nights out, socialising over a beer, joining sports teams.
But I can't. Already I have took a leave of absence from university and with my student finance pulled I am back stuck at home. I have isolated myself, and stay at home all day. I have ruined any relationship I once had because of my attempts as every friendship now feels forced. I don't enjoy anything anymore and thus have no motivation to study. My anxiety makes socialising insufferable and I never feel relaxed.
Goals:
I want to carry onwards towards my aim of moving to London and working in the civil service. But I can't. I have no drive to work towards it. I already know I am falling behind in making myself an ideal candidate; I have no work history, experience, or any contacts because I constantly hide away from doing anything.
I want the only goal I have ever truly wanted to keep me satisifed: love, family and a soulmate. But I can't. The only person I could ever love is the love of my life: my ex. I shared everything with her and losing her has meant losing enjoyment in everything I do. She was the only thing that made my anxiety manageable, and losing her has triggered my anxiety so much so that I no longer ever feel a moment's peace except the semi-conscious moments where I feel sleepy and drift into sleep. I want all the happiness, confidence, and life that being with her created but I can't ever have her back. She wasn't the only thing in my life, but she was the motivation to enjoy those other things, grow and live life to the fullest. Even if she wanted me it would never be the same after my attempts. If I were in a relationship I would only hold her back from being happy with a better guy. If I were alive I would only continue to cause her pain. I will always be in disbelief that I have to go on without her. My anxiety tells me to focus on nothing else but to get back that comfort of being with her and thus I would constantly find ways to harrass her. I would inevitably get a restraining order and I may even get to the point where I hurt her. She has already said before that she does not feel safe around me. It is better off for both of us if I am not alive. She will be safe and I won't be in prison.
Hobbies:
I want to continue to enjoy my hobbies, but I can't. All of those hobbies I shared with my love. I know how good the gym has and can make me feel. But that was the place I shared most with her and despite many attempts I cannot stay in there without starting to cry. I feel so alone and nervous in there. I know how confident the gym can make me feel. But I feel I will never get the appetite I once had back and recover the weight I have lost. Even if I were to have the greatest pyshique of all time I would not feel happy without her. I know how much I enjoyed all sorts of things; watching sports, morning walks, coffee, a cup of tea, music, tv shows, reading, and writing. But all of those things seem so pointless now. Nothing is interesting anymore. Nothing is enjoyable. Nothing distracts from the pain.
I want all these things but my stupid brain just won't allow it. I want my oldself back and I want a better self in the future. But I have accepted I just won't. Yes, I could have struggled on and tried to pick up the pieces in my life. I could have carried on heartbroken and with crippling anxiety, but I no longer have the willpower anymore. It is too much. I have gotten so weak. Occasionally, I will find an inch of strength just for my mind to shoot me back down again and again. I realise whenever I find a bit of strength it is because I start pretending and start living in denial. I lie to myself. I dream up certain imaginations and forget certain truths. But reality always catches up.
(A)
Two things in sum; After reflection I have now decided that I am 100% sure in wanting to CTB and I have arranged to do so. Initially, I had planned to see out the festive season before I arranged a date and to give myself time to see if it was truly what I wanted. But I have now had enough time to come to the conclusion of my certainty for CTB. One benefit of anxiety is that you are very efficient when it comes to exhausting every thought process. I am now comfortable and have no hesitation about CTB. Any previous doubts or maybes have been processed. And with that in mind, now with how non-relaxing every second of being alive makes me feel, I am desperate to bring the date forward. I have now started to put plans in place for Tuesday, 14 December.
(B)
I saw another thread before and it got me thinking about how I would respond to the title question: 'Are you jealous of terminally ill people'.
And no, I am not jealous. Rather I relate to them.
At first, I thought 'guilty' because they are being forced to die against their will whilst I with no terminal illness want to CTB. Surely it would be fair if we swapped positions. But then I think who is to say what is terminal illness. Is mental illness so clearly not terminal? I for one are in pain and am going to die (albeit by my own method) because of it. If we swapped positions would our outcomes be that different? Is it truly down to me that decides the outcome of my illness or is my decision to choose that outcome decided by the illness? And perhaps 'I' and 'illness' aren't so bifurcated.
I emphasise with the situation they are in. They want to live and can see the potential of life and maybe experienced previously how happy they were. Likewise, I can see the potential of life and have seen how happy it has made me previously. But both of us are prevented from future happiness because of our illness. I too have things I want to enjoy but simply can't. I am not in the situation some on SS might find themselves in where they have no sense of direction or who they are or want to be. I do know who I am and what I would have wanted for the future. So much so I can clearly lay it out below. I am so sure about my goals because in the process of deciding whether or not to CTB and deciding whether or not to carry on with the pain, I have thought about what I am living for but why I am prevented from carrying them out. It is further proof that arranging a date (despite being less than 2 months since my first ever suicidal action) is not by any means irrational.
Education and current daily life:
I want to enjoy the daily niceties of uni life; The new independence, controlling my own day, working in the library environment, meeting new people, having nights out, socialising over a beer, joining sports teams.
But I can't. Already I have took a leave of absence from university and with my student finance pulled I am back stuck at home. I have isolated myself, and stay at home all day. I have ruined any relationship I once had because of my attempts as every friendship now feels forced. I don't enjoy anything anymore and thus have no motivation to study. My anxiety makes socialising insufferable and I never feel relaxed.
Goals:
I want to carry onwards towards my aim of moving to London and working in the civil service. But I can't. I have no drive to work towards it. I already know I am falling behind in making myself an ideal candidate; I have no work history, experience, or any contacts because I constantly hide away from doing anything.
I want the only goal I have ever truly wanted to keep me satisifed: love, family and a soulmate. But I can't. The only person I could ever love is the love of my life: my ex. I shared everything with her and losing her has meant losing enjoyment in everything I do. She was the only thing that made my anxiety manageable, and losing her has triggered my anxiety so much so that I no longer ever feel a moment's peace except the semi-conscious moments where I feel sleepy and drift into sleep. I want all the happiness, confidence, and life that being with her created but I can't ever have her back. She wasn't the only thing in my life, but she was the motivation to enjoy those other things, grow and live life to the fullest. Even if she wanted me it would never be the same after my attempts. If I were in a relationship I would only hold her back from being happy with a better guy. If I were alive I would only continue to cause her pain. I will always be in disbelief that I have to go on without her. My anxiety tells me to focus on nothing else but to get back that comfort of being with her and thus I would constantly find ways to harrass her. I would inevitably get a restraining order and I may even get to the point where I hurt her. She has already said before that she does not feel safe around me. It is better off for both of us if I am not alive. She will be safe and I won't be in prison.
Hobbies:
I want to continue to enjoy my hobbies, but I can't. All of those hobbies I shared with my love. I know how good the gym has and can make me feel. But that was the place I shared most with her and despite many attempts I cannot stay in there without starting to cry. I feel so alone and nervous in there. I know how confident the gym can make me feel. But I feel I will never get the appetite I once had back and recover the weight I have lost. Even if I were to have the greatest pyshique of all time I would not feel happy without her. I know how much I enjoyed all sorts of things; watching sports, morning walks, coffee, a cup of tea, music, tv shows, reading, and writing. But all of those things seem so pointless now. Nothing is interesting anymore. Nothing is enjoyable. Nothing distracts from the pain.
I want all these things but my stupid brain just won't allow it. I want my oldself back and I want a better self in the future. But I have accepted I just won't. Yes, I could have struggled on and tried to pick up the pieces in my life. I could have carried on heartbroken and with crippling anxiety, but I no longer have the willpower anymore. It is too much. I have gotten so weak. Occasionally, I will find an inch of strength just for my mind to shoot me back down again and again. I realise whenever I find a bit of strength it is because I start pretending and start living in denial. I lie to myself. I dream up certain imaginations and forget certain truths. But reality always catches up.
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