I've been trying to write this for a while but it is a difficult topic. I need to point out that I do not know this person except for their music.

A few days ago there was a post on the facebook feed from a couple of people, musicians, I have on as friends. A young guy had posted on his Twitter some words that did not show a good state of mind. He also posted a picture showing a large amount if sleeping pills.  The posts I saw confirmed that he had taken his life. I looked at his Twitter page, I don't know if the profile picture he posted was recent, it looked it.  It hit me quite hard, more so than the pills picture, but as I looked into his eyes I recognized a whole lot more than I wanted to.
He had a lot going for him, I know he had friends, good work, a lot if talent. What he was trying to bear each day though, I know at least a little of it.  The pain and how we bear it is different for all if us, some bear it for longer than others, some even overcome it. Most of us bear it for as long as we can, until the pain that eats away inside becomes stronger than the ability to protect others from it.
Only we know how close we are to breaking at any one time but sometimes we don't see it the same, it  tricks and lies. It's fine to tell us that's what its doing but when something is telling you something over and over for years, and when that voice comes from inside you, it looks like you, walks and talks like you and it is much much harder to ignore.

I envy this man one thing, people did try to help him, they were there for him, checked on him. They tried to know what he was going through. I don't know what that's like, maybe it would be frustrating to have people so close, more people to be afraid of hurting.
When I try to talk to the only person I have all that happens is we fight. I try to say it but something always gets in the way, something stupid like 'do you want a coffee' and then he won't listen to anything no matter how important until that question is answered and I can't think because if everything going through my mind and the fact it has probably taken me a hell of a long time to work up the courage and words to say what I want.

Anyway, what I noticed was the comments that came after the sad news. People were devastated which is a natural reaction. All people that take that final action understand the inevitability that we will hurt people, it is trying to prevent that which makes us hold on longer than we wish we had to. There is always a point, though, at which the pain is too much.
Our pain hurts others too, and that is how the thought digs in that eventually their pain will be less if we are gone. The other strong reaction is anger. That hurts me to see. People are seeing it only from their view, the pain they feel in that time. I do understand that too but they do the dead a great disservice. The people who are angry are the reason the person stayed alive so long.

I see everywhere people likening mental illness to physical ones, trying to make people understand us better. They are right, noone chooses this, but this pain can't be measured, they can't just give us painkillers. Even professionals don't fully understand, a lit of medications are hit and miss and even more damaging than the condition. Yet we endure it to please those we love, to show we are trying.
Anger us natural, most people are angry when someone dies naturally, through illness, accident. But the anger is directed at something I feel is more apt, god, the person responsible for the accident, the murderer etc. People aren't generally angry at the person for getting the illness, for not beating it. Yet when someone succumbs to crippling and unbelievable depression they are deemed at fault?

Even people who have suffered (and still do) themselves are angry. I think people forget that pain is subjective. Push a pin into my arm it will hurt, the same pin in same place in your arm may hurt you more or less, you may ask for it to stop sooner, or later. We all have different tolerances to things.
The people who get through may be angry because they think they know, but noone can ever know how much another suffers.  Sometimes the thought that one day we will be free just isn't anywhere close to enough.

It is never about the people left behind. People think its selfish to take your life, I think its selfish to try to force them not to by using their love for others to emotionally blackmail them. Helping is one thing, but a friend recognizes that they shouldn't be making someone suffer something unimaginable just because they don't want to be hurt.
We do everything we can to avoid hurting people. Often that hurts us even more. We spend most of our time trying to protect you. We seek help, we do what you ask. But when we have had enough, please don't use yourselves to try to make us stay. There really are limits and we tend to know where they are, that's how we have survived them for so long.

I know it gets said you never know what's around the corner. That's true, but its more often a long life of insurmountable pain than it is a miracle that makes us happy we stayed.
Im very tired, and I know most of what I tried to say was way better when it started forming in my head a few days ago, hell it was better when I started writing well over an hour ago.
I am not trying to say its right, but that those who blame people for doing it can never understand even if they think they know anything if those feelings. You cannot blame the person who did it, yourself, or anyone. Just be proud that they had people like you holding them up while they were here, that meant a lot to them I promise you.

Transformation

The transformation was amazing, usually I can't see it so clearly but from suicidal depression and back again was like switches clicking in and out of place. I have the front on, for work, home. Partly for my own protection, partly because others need stuff from me and I'm trying to help.

Weeks of feeling like suicide, planning it, dreaming of it and then, with one event, mania. I love thunderstorms for this reason. The adrenaline flows and its like being a mad scientist except with the mental age and capacity to be amused easily of a 5 year old. Standing in torrential rain with thunder and forked lightning all around you is, quite simply, being alive. I get high off the electrical charge in the air, the feeling is exhillerating, nothing can match it. It is power, it isn't ashamed of it, it is loud, up front and beautiful. And it can kill without apology.

But it dies eventually and the feeling dies too. After any high the crash is bad. You are still charged but it becomes irritation and aggression. Then you feel like shit because all the negativity is directed at yourself and you are back to square 1. It was worth it for those brief moments though, I may not be happy about it but it's a reminder that i'm alive and for a while, my mind was pure.

The sun is shining...hip hip hip.....oh fuck

So Tue summer is here. Just in time to catch my thyroid playing help. Having trouble getting up, staying awake and apparently standing upright. It is a visable problems at work, compounded by the fact that this stupid pill destroys so much physically and mentaly.

I know I couldn't hide what was going on yesterday my only blessing was that they don't know why. I am trying to not let it show but yesterday I had no choice but to roll the sleeve on my hidden arm a bit. Nothing to see, had bracelet so that it covered it, slipped sometimes but the slight cooling it provided was worth it.

My temperature control is shot, I am literally boiling here and eating/drip.king just makes me feel so ill. I know how important drinking enough is but it is difficult. I could hardly drink enough without throwing up before and now I need to drink at least half as much again.

Today I have stomach cramps, partially due to my stupidity when younger, I screwed a lot of my body not eating for so long and now I suffer for it. Again the heat makes it worse.  Of course there is also the stupid black top I have to wear under my work shirt for the sleeves. I know I have no one to blame but myself, no matter what made me start I still did it myself, and carried on. Ironically after having so much trouble because of it yesterday guess what I did last night.

I say 'did' but it was more what I tried to do. Apparently the skin o. My Tm is so thick from scar tissue now that what would have once opened me up wide now is just grazing it, even after almost hitting the blade across my arm there are barely any cuts. Bleeds just fine but for me it was being able to see something 'proper' for some time that would keep me from doing it again. Now I am just hunting for something sharper. I don't even have any feeling in one area I discovered but feel it or not, it still did not want to cut. I am angry that I have messed up so badly my skin won't even cut properly, mad that I did it, mad that I can't do it, mad that I suffer in heat because of it and that I have to walk around with one sleeve rolled down all the time to hide it.

I'm tired of all this, I always become a bit suicidal around this time because it highlights all the problems there are from pills, and that I have caused myself. It would be easier I know, the hard part is trying to remember why not to.w

Meh and rant

Coming to the end of a really depressing week. Done nothing fun, not through lack of trying to get to do something. Really does seem it's ok to do stuff with other people (that's of course only for work) but not to do anything with me.

It is actually impossible to put into words how I feel, closest though nowhere really accurate are lost, lonely, depressed. Yet another week has been wasted. Angry should be in there to, I feel really close to just letting everything break loose. After 5 or so years of him being out of work it was always said he would keep house nice, get garden done etc. Never happened, when it was ok enough for family to visit it never lasted even if I was never in main room it would be a pigsty days later and never tidied again.

Even now, he does work but not full time (which I do) so he said he would get it done (for the record the room I am always in - study) is not a smelling pigsty like where he is.  Only when he wasn't working did I ask him to do all housework. Now I want what he said he would do done then we both do our bit. I'm just pissed off I guess that after all this time its as if it suddenly doesn't matter that I carried him for so long (and would do again, I never begrudged it, just wished for more help).

On a seperate note, the woman that got 'mauled' by cheetahs in the news. Anyone with a brain knows no wild animal can be totally tame. The owners were irresponsible but she and the others in there were just plain stupid. Even domestic animals can turn in the wrong conditions you should never be lax in you attention with them and what's going on around.

There's no way they mauled her, if they had truly attacked her she would be in pieces rout now. I know what damage domestic cats can do when playing and they can retract their claws, cheetahs can't so they play there's a good chance you will be hurt. I hope these animals will not be blamed and killed because of yet more human errors.

Ok is not all its cracked up to be

I don't feel that bad, not great but not depressed really. Yet I feel I can see things clearer than I want to. I can see my life how it is now and how it is going to be for the rest of my life. I dont want it to be this way. Empty apart from when I can totally focus on music. It's sad to think that is the only thing I have that can do that and I feel terrible for the people I know I should feel that way about.

It's always been that way and I always thank my dad for bringing me so much music when I was young, without it I wouldn't be here. But it depresses me that this is it, for eternity I will be held together only if I am listening to music. The rest of the time, between songs or when I am not in a position to listen to any is physically and mentally so painful. There are fleeting moments between that are ok, a funny moment but they never last and can never be relied upon to be there when you need them.

I don't want to live like this, knowing what the next moment without it will be like.  Yet perversely it keeps me alive always wanting to hear the next.  Hard to think clearly and make sense of what it really means, probably nothing Tbh, I think maybe I was a little lower than I thought, hard to notice when your head is filled with music and the images of your favourite and most engrossing music videos.

Here again

Been a while since got this bad, thought it wasba blip for day or two but its still here. So unbelievable low. Mostly lacking in any energy or life except for enough to feel bouts of intense anger.

I have wasted everything, I take for granted my boyfriend and I do tell him how much I appreciate him etc and check how he is and that he ok with things. But we do nothing together, literally nothing. Not through a lack of me asking, I just do.t seem worth doing anything with. Though he can go ice skating with work I cannot go out with him one day/night. I would love to have do.e that.

Doing things like that brings you closer to people, you like more those you have fun with. Well if he doesnt spend time enough to have fun with me (always busy, ill, not feeling like it) then it won't be hard to like someone there more than me.

I never cry but its taking everything to keep the tears in my eyes and not streaming down my face. I feel like such a waste of a life, what is the point taking up air and space. It took me by suprise so the energy to get anything started and the ability to see the point in anything is non-existant.

I do want to die, I know i can't because of my mum and she is still (natually) struggling bad with losing my dad. But right now is worse than death, I want it to end, not temporarily, not chemically just so totally that all of this is goes and there is no risk of it returning. I bring nothing to anyone or anything and I'm only damaging to those closest, mostly myself.

Screwed

But at least when something does screw me it stays true to myself and does it so completely that its impossible for it to have screwed me more. Yes I'm ducking pissed off about something but I have to go to bed so no time to type.