More proof that I'm an unpleasant person

So if you've ever had one or more severely depressed relatives you will identify with what I'm going to say here...

If you think that folks who suffer from severe clinical depression should 'get over it' then kindly fuck off and save us all the trouble.


I've spent the last 72 hours waiting to hear that one of my first degree relatives has committed suicide.  It hasn't happened yet, but every day they seem to be just a step closer (I've known enough suicides over the years to have an idea of what the warning signs are and this particular relative has been showing them with increasing regularity for a while). 

It has been bad enough that this person's partner has threatened to have them forcibly committed.

But the most disturbing thing is that today this individual told me point blank that they don't even want to be happy any more, they just want to be numb so that they don't have to feel anything.

I spent several years drinking myself into that condition, numb so that I wouldn't feel anything.

I can understand what that can be like.

I can understand the allure of feeling nothing.

Hell, there was a time when I found myself contemplating suicide on an hourly basis, sometimes several times an hour.

Sometimes it's hard not to.


And that's why I think I can't seem to do anything to help this individual, though I really want to.  Because in spite of the fact that persons death will affect many people in a negative way, and in spite of the fact that this is someone I care very deeply about (though admittedly I've not always shown it, and for many years was far too wrapped up in my own bullshit to be the sort of person I should have been).  I can understand what it feels like to want that lasting peace.

I've been there, and I can't tell someone else not to be there...  (don't you think it should be the other way around?)

And I can't offer any great profound reason why this person shouldn't, because I still can't figure out why I didn't. 

I just didn't.

I truly hope that this person doesn't. 

But there are no guarantees, and in this life there is often more unpleasantness than there is joy.

So I wait, I hope, I try to offer support where I can.

All while quietly preparing myself for the worst.



Because I'm still not sure why I haven't done it myself.

As I mentioned, I've known several who did, and I still don't know what the significant difference was between us, or if there even was one.

If I did know I'd bottle it and give it away for free, but I have no fucking clue.

I hate waiting.

I hate worrying.

I hate being unable to change things.










God I'm tired.