I want to die sometimes…


You know the drill – if you’re staying away from suicidal ideation this is your warning:

I want to die sometimes.  It happens quite suddenly, the desire towards death.  But I’m not sure if I want to die or I don’t know/believe I can find a way to live.

When the death drive comes over me it’s like a veil- at least when it comes over me as a mood.  I feel the weight of loss, of wasting away in front of myself.

Someone once told me that depression was anger turned inwards.  For women this tends to manifest in docile vacant depression, while for men it is more likely to present as violent outward fits.  I get that because earlier today and many days, I feel so frustrated I want to tear my hair out.

I have no outlet really.  My family get upset when I act strangely.  It’s not strange to me.  I think of my dashed hopes, my feelings of impotence, that nothing I do matters, that I have no control whatsoever.  No life.  No stimulation mental or physical or emotional.  That weight of pretending I’m not a seething mass of resentment, it boils over.

Instead of throwing a glass at a wall, watching it smash, I have to see it in my head.  I cannot scream or throw things or tear up the sheets as I feel the urge to do.  So I claw at my stomach, trying to free myself.  I curl in bed, I thrash around, I dig my nails into my skin to try to distract or release the thundering rage that I have to feel like this, purgatory that is like running the time down on a clock.

Tonight I took five old-school drowsy anti-depressants, trying to douse down the agitation.

The thing is, I decided a good while ago that I was going to allow myself to die.  I gave myself a number, an age.  I don’t want to live like this.  I haven’t seen any improvement in talking therapies, visiting the G.P. is, in my mind, some sort of black joke.

The thing that worries me most is the small enclave of people who would be hit by my death.  To this end I’ve long thought, in a vague sense that I have to do it in a way that minimizes the impact such that I can.

I need this worked out now, not when I’m in some major depressive episode.

My concern is that my body must not be found in a room by my family.  Ideally I would like to be considered missing- no body.

I also believe that a year must pass with me far away from here before I take my life.  This is to avoid the horror of seeing someone everyday and then saying ‘I had a cup of tea with her yesterday…’ etc.

I’m conflicted, I don’t know where I would go or how to do this thing.  I don’t want to fuck it up.  If there was a way for me to live with acceptable levels of distress I would.  If between now and my death date life changes I will adjust my plans.  But I do need these plans and I have vague ideas but I frankly don’t know how to do this, how to disappear for a while, where to go, what to do for money (like I said I am not going to die in this house having had recent contact with family.

A week ago my sister asked me what was wrong.  I said I am not me, I cannot do this forever, this isn’t working.  She told me to give it another go, try again to be happy, what could I lose?

I said I could allow myself to get my hopes up, think I could have more, and then fall flat again.  That is worse to me than my  resigned decision.  I think she used the phrase ‘fire in your belly’ as in, GET SOME, and she cried and I was not immediately affected.  I observed the frustrated tears, but couldn’t engage.

Since then I have engaged, I’ve cried on my own, crying for her, for the pain she will have and the pain that I will have.  I’ve said I won’t talk about it anymore; it just upsets her.  I wanted to prepare people.  I don’t know how to do it.

As for methods, that’s not hard is it.  If I mention euthanizing drugs used today, which I won’t by name, but that is the obvious choice.

I wish this moving away plan was more evolved – that’s the thing I don’t know how to do.  Even if I didn’t act on it, I think I need a strategy anyway; the last thing I want is a sudden depressed mood that drives me to kill myself in a sloppy, desperate way.

It’s not great – like making a will I suppose – but I want to know I have this tiny piece of mind.

7 Responses to I want to die sometimes…

  1. Bristol Michael says:

    Paradoxically, it seems to me that this ‘death’ plan is also your ‘life’ line, it keeps you going. You’re a very courageous lady, Louise, and the reason I look forward to reading your posts is that I recognise a fellow creative person when I see one. You’ve put some of your work online and I’d love to see more. The pain is like giving birth to the work; it’s a horrible thing to experience at the time but it’s not pointless and neither are you.

    M :)

  2. bluesilk says:

    Hey M,
    you’re right it’s a death plan and also a stay of execution.
    I appreciate your comments – definitely my most stalwart commenter over time – I’ll get some badges printed ;)

    Thing is, I don’t want 30 children, to use your birthing analogy ;)
    You’re right, I am creative and I am also sensitive and sensitivity is very difficult to accomodate in the world as-is *shrug*.
    Anyways
    take care,
    L

  3. kiran says:

    i want to die coz i have this head shaking problems and i cant go outside freely….with my friends…i dint enjoy nything in my life no fun no nothing…my life is like a dumb ass donkey ..bitch….

  4. de Barbie says:

    I wish I knew how you with thanks directly if I could call you back
    I would, you assisted change my gaming life. I today dont’ think I will spend the same amount of doing what I utilize to do, I may be a bit more fashion aware or simply just consult with more girls but nevertheless learn to balance being a bit.

  5. dee says:

    Oh god, I feel your pain and recognize exactly your feelings. I have CFS, PTSD, Depression, and borderline personality disorder. Sometimes I crave death and often I struggle at night not to swallow all ny pills, its a real physical battle. But like you I think of my family. I often think it would be best if I wrote a note saying I’m going to b.c or somewhere to be alone for awhile but really going far in the woods with a 22 gun and never being found, let ne go back to nature. But then I think of leaving my sister alone to deal with my parents eventual deaths (they are in their 70′ s), and I think missing out on my cousins life (she is precious to me). So conflicted. I’m reading a book now that’s helping a lot though, written by a law professor struck down by CFS, its called “how to be sick: by Toni Bernhard

  6. Paula says:

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    When I look at your website in Chrome, it looks fine but when opening in Internet Explorer, it has
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SodStar

The rewards of defeat are even better...

Halfway Between The Gutter And The Stars

Borderline Personality Disorder. Psoriatic Arthritis, Fibromyalgia. Chronic illness. Me.

Deidra Alexander's Blog

I have people to kill, lives to ruin, plagues to bring, and worlds to destroy. I am not the Angel of Death. I'm a fiction writer.

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