Wednesday, December 8, 2010

repost :mood

I...realized a lot of my depression was because I felt very betrayed by the way my wife doesn't necessarily put a priority on keeping a job. She quit because she was sick of the job. It was a job worthy of being sick of, and I think her moving on was a good thing...but she just walked off and quit after one really rotten night. No other job lined up, not even two weeks' notice, just "I quit tonight."
I felt like she'd just pushed me over a cliff, because it then meant I had to pay all our bills for however long her unemployment lasted.
And she's blown off multiple jobs in various ways. It freaks me out harder each time.

So last night I talked to her about it and said she needs to do better about trying hard to stay continuously employed because it just ups the terror I feel about everything and function by repressing. That I was likely going to ask her to move out if she blew off another job, and that if it was her choice to save up and leave now,

And she said she was thinking about divorce too, because of the temper issues...I get really screamy, as I said-not verbally abusive, but shouty...and I don't know how to stop myself.

And this one incident where she felt really threatened by what I did-and I didn't mean it to be threatening, but I wasn't thinking clearly...and she had every right to be scared as heck.

She just moved a bunch of stuff around, that was all. But this was after I said, "Please only move a few things..."I kept telling her that I get really confused and upset when things get moved, and that you have to do it a little at a time or I get overwhelmed...She didn't hear what I was trying to communicate. I kept repeating,"Do it slowly, a little at a time, don't move too much at once..."

We have some major communication issues and are going to do couples' counseling ASAP.

When someone moves major things in my immediate environment it's like they rearrange the inside of my brain, and she didn't understand that's what I was saying to her. I was already severely depressed, under an enormous amount of stress.
SO... I got up to find the house turned upside down, EVERYTHING MOVED. I was trying to get ready for work. I went nuts.

I literally started screaming in frustration crying, howling, bobbing and jerking my head while my impulse was to get this thing and that thing I needed for work only to realize after taking half a step that she had moved EVERYTHING. It felt like I had been hit by a strong electric shock or a blow to the head.

I snapped. I wrote a psycho-looking note asking her why in god's name she did that to me, then stabbed it to my desk with knives and left them like that. Y'know, because it's not okay to tear up her stuff. And I self-injured also.

(I know I went way, way over the line that night, and I can't allow myself to do that again, but after I did what I did in immediately became about what I did...but thinking back about how horrible that night was for me, I once again feel that sense of someone horribly betraying my trust on a whim. It felt like she'd done it deliberately to make me that miserable. I was upset enough to start pseudohallucinating.)

So, she's been thinking about divorce, yeah. Even saving money for a lawyer, and I told her I wouldn't try to hold her back, she wouldn't have to pay an attorney, I don't think, I'd do my best to be helpful, co-operative and fair if she wants to go. We spent inheritance money of hers on sinusitis surgery for me in Mexico-which made us broke. I wish I wasn't such a loser-because I ought to be able to pay her back for it, but I'm so poor it would take years.

A lot of this is poverty-if I wasn't so close to the bone-if I made a real living wage instead of a wage that allows me to just make it to another day...well, I wouldn't be so freaked out.
Another way I fail both myself, her, even my Mom.

My wife looked at my blog too, and now she's forbidden me to buy 55 gallon metal drums. Drat. She already locked my pistol up, darn her.

So that's why I'm depressed, I marriage may be in its' dying days. Couples' therapy only has about a 50% success rate. I'm not inclined to optimism. I...know whatever happens, I don't ever want to hurt again like it's going to hurt if this ends. Which means never letting someone be this close to me again, never caring this much again.

I need to get another appointment, probably with a different county psychiatrist...the one I saw was the department head and was too busy managing the department to take the time to let me explain "horrible". I told her I was doing "horrible" when she asked.

I meant "Severely depressed, irritable, self injuring about once weekly on average, suicidal enough to make plans, feeling hopeless as well as a sort of distant terror, tired yet having trouble sleeping eight hours, despising myself, feeling very incompetent, getting intrusive thoughts of past things I feel guilt over, poor memory and concentration, feeling disconnected to anyone who cares about me, crying every night."

Sunday, December 5, 2010


OK...I have a plan!
To commit suicide the right way, I have to get a metal barrel and drill holes in it...the kind that can have a lid bolted on...and figure out how to float myself out to sea in the deliberately leaky barrel...and take sleeping pills-a bunch of sleeping I go to sleep and the barrel sinks.

Voila! body hidden! No cleanup.
How do I get myself into the water in the barrel? rolling inside the barrel, I guess.

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Hello suicide my old friend

 My wife and I got into an argument, it's clearly my fault-being sincere...I ruined a good evening, I hate myself...I am destroying my marriage this way because I'm a worthless piece of shit.

I wanted her just to come with me to the store afterwards and she wouldn't even do that. 

I am visualizing driving to the bridge I've picked out to jump off of, and wondering what the fall will be like, before I hit, how scared I will be, will I have the courage to face the water coming up to kill me or am I going to close my eyes and go feet-first?
I wonder if I could get something to take the edge off besides alcohol, in order to make it less frightening and painful?  Would I then be safe to drive to the bridge?

I want to die, and she keeps the guns locked up, so I jump...or go buy a shotgun when she's at work...

I'm tired of trying...I love and trust this woman more than anyone in the world but I can't make it work with her...and I don't know that I want to carry on without her.
On the other hand, the appeal with the bridge is that I have a good amount of time to think about it before I get there, so I can know when I do that I'll have considered my decision.

I almost feel like setting off to the bridge right now, but I'm not completely without I'll keep trying, for now...but when she leaves me, which I think will happen, I'll help her go, then get my affairs in order....

Maybe I'll feel better later...but right now I feel like I'm looking the end of my marriage in the face and I don't think I want to go on after it.

So if my wife finds this after I'm dead, not that she would, she's (thankfully) able to take death in stride...and that makes suicide an easier choice for me...

I could have bravely soldiered on without you, dear....but there are reasons why I chose not to.   I'm not happy out of a relationship, but I cause all sorts of bullshit in one.  I might have happy moments, but my life's not a happy one, never has been, never will be.  I am crippled by my fears, yet daily loathe myself for my lack of achievement, and I don't see me overcoming that.

In short, I was a smart, funny, waste of oxygen, and in a lot of internal pain all the time.

I felt like I owed you better than I had to give, does that make any sense? I love(d) you so much, that I felt like going on without you wasn't worth it anymore.

Not that I couldn't, but didn't, and that's not your fault, alright?  I nearly did  myself in any number of times when we were together anyway-I'm just not able to be happy.
So suicide was my choice, and you can hate me for that essentially cowardly choice as much as you want.  I'm dead. Do whatever makes life easier.

insuranceless in the USA

I apologize to the person whom I partly wrote this to...but this was a good summary of my adventures with insuranceless chronic illness.

 When I got sick in 2002 it started with a runny nose.  And never stopped. So imagine having first bronchitis for a few months, then a cold that never, ever went away. For eight years.
Chronic pansinusitis.

Had I had decent insurance, I would have gotten an ENT consult and proabably had surgery for the problem within a year of diagnosis, if surgery was even necessary. I suspect it would have been, and even if not necessary, I still think it would be beneficial sans the infection. My sinuses and allergies have been chronic problems and chronically made my asthma worse.

My life has been totally derailed by the combination of the sinus infection and the inability to access needed care.  I lost my savings-better yet, I lost the ability to make independence, my apartment, my sanity. I now take more pills than Pac-Man.

You see, sinusitis made my asthma go nuts, my allergies go nuts...and now I'm running across research that suggests it made ME go nuts...apparently, cytokines, which your body pumps out during an allergic reaction, get into the brain and break down serotonin. You then have decay of the serotonin...this might explain why SSRI's coincidentally stopped working as well for me at the same time...because the serotonin is getting broken down while in the synapse....

You see, I was okay for many years on one mood medication. Now I'm not okay on three.

So my lungs were barely working for a while, I was chronically fatigued for a long while, and I had constant hayfever, pretty much. I am physically a lot better. My allergist said if I lost a lot of weight I'd get better. He was right...although I seem to have done it without the stomach stapling he suggested.

But my wife and I also tried to get surgery for me in Mexico..and the Mexican surgeon...well, he didn't do what should have been done-he only took out all the polyps...which was helpful, yes, and I feel better, yes...but it took all the money we had and only fixed the problem about 30%

Since 2002, my life has been one giant allergic reaction due to the presence of the infection. Sinus infections do that.

They also cause chronic fatigue, so I was either sleeping or taking ludicrous amounts of caffiene to work, so I could pay for medicine, for a long period of time. The reason I didn't go to the county sooner: the last time I was with the county, their fee schedule went up such that it was cheaper to go to a private doctor.

That, and they really do suck: they screw up my meds, they can be inflexible even though it causes me an enormous amount of headache, very inefficient, disorganized, have no effective complaint response, I see a new intern resident each time, and I can expect to spend two to four hours at most appointments, waiting for them to get around to me.
Sometimes I have to leave and reschedule so I can go to work.