Empty Platitudes

You may have seen by now that I hate platitudes, and find them more frustrating and patronizing than helpful.

This was posted on someone’s Facebook wall just now.

This is one of those sayings that sounds so nice and encouraging when you’re the one saying it it. However, as someone who’s been on the receiving end, I have never figured out what “the miracle” is.

I have struggled with depression most of my life and suicidal tendencies for about 2 decades. I have given up, or been close to giving up dozens of times. I have quit, and I have been ready to quit. I have attempted suicide, and I have longed for death. I have had long, hard nights where I KNEW I couldn’t keep going and I didn’t know how to hang on anymore.

I can tell you that not ONCE after any of these points have I experienced “the miracle” that is supposed to happen after. There is no wake up the next morning and things are miraculously better. There is no sudden epiphany that makes everything make sense and all the pain and suffering “worth it”.

My singular goal for tonight, this last day of 2014, was to not spend it in the ER like I did last New Year’s Eve. When a friend asked me what my plans were, that’s what I told her.

I am struggling, and I am hanging on for now, and I am trying to make the right choices. But telling me that “the miracle” is right around the corner is not helpful to me. It kind of just makes me want to slap you and tell you that you haven’t got a clue.

I’m sure I sound cynical. I’m sure I sound mean-spirited. I’m sure I sound bitter. However, when you deal with people telling you the same useless phrases over and over for years, it just gets old.

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2014 in review

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Your own worst enemy

I was having a conversation with the boy about how my disordered thoughts have been getting worse lately. Then I showed him this picture. It’s the lock screen on my phone. A reminder of how disgusting I am, just in case I were to forget.

He told me that I am my own worst enemy.

I said I know. I just don’t know how to change that.

Right now, my hands are stinging. In an extra effort to ensure I remember not to eat, I cut all over both hands, assuming I can’t eat without seeing them and being reminded how undeserving of food I am.

Today was also my late sister’s birthday. I worked hard to ignore it. However, despite my best efforts, I felt suicidal and self-destructive all day.

It’s getting harder to hang on. A friend’s father committed suicide today. I felt like a total ass for being jealous.

I’m trying to at least get past the holidays.  I know they’re hard enough for my family after losing my sister. I’m trying, but it’s getting harder and harder to keep going.

I spent New Year’s Eve in the ER last year, I’m trying not to repeat that. Plus, my mom’s birthday is in a few days.

People say that those who commit suicide are selfish. Suicidal people almost always think of their families and friends. Each day, each moment is, “Can I hold on for now, for them? Can I keep going? Can I do this to spare them the pain?” But I know that sooner or later, the answer will be no. I can’t do this, I can’t hang on any more. I’ve lost too much footing and I’m about to fall and be swallowed up by it.

Because I am my own worst enemy…and I don’t know how to destroy myself and remain intact. One of these days, one of us has to go. And if one of me dies, we both die.

Why I can’t quit: a realization

I’m lying here in bed in a post-purge high and I realized that, for me, purging is better than sex.

Self-imposed Poverty

A friend posted this image on her Facebook wall of the present she just wrapped.

It made me think of this trend that’s popular right now, to intentionally make or buy things that look cheap.

I like to watch interior design shows, and it amazes me how many times someone will buy furniture pieces that, to me, look like you should be able to get them for $20 or dig them out of a dumpster, but it’s considered trendy.

Growing up, we didn’t have a lot of money. Getting something new that wasn’t a hand-me-down or a used donation was the best feeling in the world.

I don’t understand why you would want to buy things that look like you can’t afford to buy things. I also hate aging furniture. When you’ve never owned a new piece of furniture, and all your pieces are ACTUALLY aged and showing wear and tear, you want things that look new and beautiful.

But apparently when you have the money for things, you want to buy or make pretty furniture look old and used?? I just don’t get it.

Another trend along these lines is with wrapping presents. It’s considered artsy to wrap with brown paper and twine/string. However, when you grew up wrapping presents in paper bags and the Sunday comics, all it says to me is “I couldn’t afford wrapping paper.”

I also know a lot of people like homemade gifts. And while I enjoy making things for others, I’d rather buy presents because I never could afford to, and because there were many years my parents couldn’t afford to buy things for us, so I associate homemade gifts with poverty.

I think it’s interesting how your experiences color the way you view different things like these.

But I’m Scared…

All I can see are they.

The blue veins of life…of death…

I have the blade in my hand, ready.

But I am scared.

I want to, but I can’t bring myself to.

The finality.

Tonight, I am afraid of the finality of it.

Other times, I long for that.

I crave it. I need it.

But tonight, I am scared.

All the feels and none of the words

I am feeling everything all at once. I want to type it out, but it won’t come.

Right now, I’m waiting to board a plane to end my vacation. I can’t decide how I feel about it. I feel everything, all at once.