Mental Health

You sound a lot like me when I wanted to die the most. Back when most of my family was dead, and the only family that was left was estranged due to abuse and trauma aside from one that was half a continent away. When I was lured by a girl to another state to help her move and then ditched, and left homeless, stuck between going back to those who abused me and gave me PTSD, and sleeping in my cold car that contained all of my belongings.

I know this has nothing to do with your life, and is completely removed from your experience, but I'd still like to share my tale of escape in case you ever decide to read. To note: I tried antidepressants, especially when my brain started causing nerve damage that made my entire left side severely sensitive to touch and cold... but all they did was remove me from myself, or drive me mad and made my darkest thoughts even worse... made it easier to fall apart, and even made stressors worse. Medicine truly DOES NOT suit every scenario, and can often make us worse if the underlying issues causing our pain go unresolved.

Therapy wasn't an option, my chest physically hurt from the loneliness, and hunger was growing from my lack of funds... Singing to myself covers of songs about how I wanted to or should die, or how I should be taken out... But I came across a sweet older lady that told me that the school district was hiring pretty much ANYONE for janitorial - and at first I pushed away from the thought due to hating cleaning up after others, but I took the shot and jumped in out of desperation. It might sound ass backwards, but even if it was a terribly low paying job, being able to support and prove myself in some way that gave back to others helped save me from the brink. The cheap rent for a shared house made it feasible, albeit it required staying in my tiny room because dealing with others was too much, and deep heartfelt longing to fill the chasm in my chest was there for a long time. I stayed lonely (for the most part still do,) and I still keep my list of friends EXTREMELY small, but somehow I've been able to find solace in what's essentially a Sisyphean task. Seeing countless innocent smiles even if they don't understand the work that's entailed, and getting thanks from their parents as they came through the school to pick them up from after-school programs, while doing work that I abhor... gave me life in a way that I otherwise couldn't attain. Knowing at the end of the day that I was helping keep people safe, to provide safety and care that I lacked in my upbringing, and becoming the opposite of my father made me want to keep going. I honestly think that this job in itself is the one thing that's regularly keeping me going even a decade later, even if it feels too much at times. I may be working with college students now who are WAY more out of control at times, but the comfort of being appreciated as a part of the community that keeps their lives running smoothly has helped with my issues of a continuing struggle at the lower levels of Maslow's hierarchy of needs. I earnestly think that if I had any other job, I would be much worse off mentally now, and owe my healing to that sense of a community that otherwise seems unattainable in our current world for someone who struggles with social interactions due to trauma.

I don't know what path may be best for you, or what options may even be feasible, but finding something at base level as being an essential part of a community may be infinitely more valuable than any amount of prescribed drugs. And I know it probably sounds awful, because it did to me too... but you clearly want to escape from the struggle and find a chance to properly live... finally get the opportunity to find yourself and think outside of the endless barrage of pain that feeds upon itself. The endless cycle of suffering that many of us know far too well. I'm still somewhat unwell even after years of bi-monthly therapy, and still find comfort in singing songs about how I want to die from time to time, but the growth from my past to now is still astounding.

I don't have solid answers, and nobody will, but please know that countless others are in or came from the brink of giving up. It's not easy, but it can get so much easier if the worst part of your day somehow provides you with some sort of fulfillment.

And, I'm sorry if this was too much text that may essentially lead to nothing, but you at least deserve the chance to read into the life of someone who has struggled with dark thoughts, depression, and trauma for the majority of their life.

Please, take care.