It was hard to wake up this morning. As it is most mornings. After nights of restless sleep, it is any wonder that I manage to stay awake during the day. It is a combination of things. Stress. Anxiety. Achy back and joints. I am going through a lot of changes right now and it has a tendency to be a bit overwhelming. Of course, I feel like I have been generally overwhelmed by life for a good decade and a half, now. That is when my parents passed away. Well… They did not die together. 9 months apart.
I have decided to start journaling as a means of working through my thoughts and feelings… my depression. I am hoping that it will make things clearer for me somehow. I have tried to fight through depression most of my life (even before my parents passed), but it has not worked. I have tried prescription drugs, went to a therapist for a while — but not nearly long enough —nothing seems to work. I had given up on life altogether and decided to just wait for death.
Waiting for death is not as easy as I had hoped it would be. It is painful and uncomfortable, really. I have a weight problem. OK, that is putting it mildly. I am classified as what doctors would refer to as “super obese.” That surpasses morbid obesity. (Although I have lost 65 lbs since December, I am still in that category.)
Anyway, my plan was to just let my obesity claim me. To stop taking my medications, let my blood pressure skyrocket and throw me into a stroke. I was sure that even if someone was around (which was unlikely) even if they were able to call an ambulance for me, there would be no way for them to lift me and get me into the ambulance and to the hospital on time. But again, I do not like pain and discomfort. The headaches, the swollen legs, and the general feeling of feeling like shit was too much to bare. This put me in a dilemma where I was not able to get the … well, I don’t to call it courage. But, I just could not find it in me to directly kill myself and I couldn’t endure the days of pain and discomfort a high blood pressure (and high blood sugar) put me through.
So, I am still here.
I am trying, again, to figure out how to live a life, again. An old friend of my parents invited me to live with her and has been trying to help me through this process to the best of her ability. I have accepted the offer, letting my house go and completely separating from my brothers for the first time since our parents passed.
I have two younger brothers. I was 20 when our mom died, they were 17 and 14. I was 21 when our dad died, they were 18 and 15.
It was tough figuring out how to take care of them, especially with the emotional issues that I have suffered through my entire life. Especially when the oldest has schizophrenia, or schizoaffective disorder… or manic depression with psychotic tendencies… or whatever the doctors decide to diagnose him with every time he has to be hospitalized after a relapse.
I am going to stop here because this has already been more draining that I anticipated and I have to make my lunch. I might write more later.