I have PMDD aka hormone disorder that makes me suicidal at least a week out of each month, so I definitely feel this... I'm in luteal at the moment, aka the week or more before your period in which it gets really, really bad. It's like a ladder, each day it feels a little harder to get out of bed, a little harder to wake up or fall asleep, a little harder to talk to people, a little harder to eat, a little harder to feel the will to keep going... And of course it's already a week late, so I'm stuck in an ever-growing hell until I get my period. Bed rotting is my unfortunate friend, I experience it every month without fail, sometimes it gets better right after shark week starts and often it follows me the week after it stops as well, into my good 1 1/2 to 2 weeks out of the month.
I just lay in bed, staring at nothing, listening to droning music cause none of my favorites bring me any joy. Everything I eat tastes dull, I might as well be eating cardboard. I dissociate, I feel so hungry but eating is next to impossible because my throat is so tight. I want to reach out to people, my family, my friend, but I also don't want to. I know they don't really care about me, I know they think of me as a burden, I know they just talk to me out of pity. 2 of my siblings don't even talk to me anymore. The others I thought were my friends turned out to not even notice after I left.
I spent the past year doing everything, trying meds and therapy, trying so hard to fix myself, but the only "treatments" for PMDD are antidepessants and/or birth control, both of which make me even worse, to the point of daily crippling panic attacks and hyperventiliation. Even after trying different SSRI's for years, they all stop working after a few months.
I tried to get accepted for disability so I could at least not have to burden my parents with rent, but I've already been rejected twice. And it's made to be that way, to discourage people like me. Maybe in hopes that people like me would just die while they wait.
And then all that on top of climate change, human greed, technology taking people's jobs and isolating them, earth is already fucked enough even if I don't have this condition. Or any mental conditions, and I have many.
I know that somewhere deep down there, the pain I feel is human. The last bits that remain even through all I've dealt with. And I know I could've taken that humanity and done something beautiful with it, helped others. But I didn't. I was too weak. Too tired. And now there's just no point. There's no fixing this world. There's just too much hate, too much fear, too much suffering.
So I lie in bed, my clothes start to smell, my dishes stack up, the floor accumulates mess, my hair gets greasy, I stop setting my alarm, I stay awake staring at a screen that's too bright till the sun has come up and sleep till the sun has already set, because there's no time anymore for me, the days and seasons have little meaning.
I know at this point killing myself would be an act of mercy, for not only myself but everyone I know. I of all people would never discourage anyone who genuinely wants to leave this world from doing so if they're absolutely sure they'd have no regrets, but at least know I'm right there with you, rotting in my own bed too. I hope in some way that helps you feel a little less alone despite it all.
I'm the same when I don't have to work.... I could lay in bed all day everyday.
