Testing My Faith

I feel I’m testing my faith, well others may think I’m being crazy.

People can argue that I should do this or that. Think I should try what they’re doing even though they aren’t happy themselves but I guess I should jump on that band wagon because it’s the thing to do.

Living life with mental illness and chronic illness makes things so much more difficult for me. I’m torn between wanting to live and wanting to die.

I have never been a fan of going to the doctor (who is?). I know one should be better safe than sorry but most doctors don’t do much. It’s hard to find a “good” doctor and when you do, better make sure you have “good” health insurance or you won’t be seeing them again.

Anyways I have anxiety which causes my heart rate to race and my blood pressure is very high. I have hypertension. The numbers are dangerous high mostly all the time and I have been at a life threatening moment one time. I don’t have a doctor, which means I am not on any prescriptions. Even though I don’t want to take any prescription drugs, when it came to my blood pressure I was willing to take something to help get it down. Now I’ve gone so long without taking anything, that I’m like what’s the point. I’m still here, still kicking it. I want to test my faith.

I am in the process of trying to change my eating habits, getting restful sleep, exercising and hopefully being stress free. (Easier said than done) to be honest I’ve been trying to do these things for the last few years. I can never stick with exercising (I get bored) the sleep part I sleep whenever I can actually fall asleep and hope I don’t get disturbed. Eating habits are difficult when every time family gets together it’s food involved. Watching others eat things and asking if I want some. Feeling guilty because someone cooked and I feel I have to eat. It’s crazy all the excuses I’ve been telling myself. I have given up many times but here I am starting again. This time I really want change. I feel more determined. Food has to get right because then the exercise won’t even matter.

Having anxiety makes me panic and worry all the time about so many things. Even other people cause me to think about even more things. So being less stress is a job in its self.

Having Depression makes me want to give up. Makes me ask questions like why am I needed here? I’m just in the way, I won’t be missed. Etc…

So I’m like if God wants me to be here then he will keep me here. He has so far, I’m 33 years old and my life has always been full of stress. I think I almost made it through my twenties with an ok blood pressure. (I think) I put on extra weight over last few years also was eating more and wrong which made things worse and is causing my body more pain.

Now I’ve been trying to get back to how I was in my early twenties (wishful thinking) I was still “crazy” but at least I weighed less and that helped.

People don’t agree with how I live my life because I don’t want to follow the same paths as others. I want my own path and I want to show that sometimes one has to open their eyes to what really is versus what they’ve been told or shown.

The healthiest person can get sick. Someone taking many prescriptions may never get well. A baby or young child can die. Someone can walk away from a car accident unharmed. Someone who has never smoked a day in their life can get lung cancer. Do you get what I’m saying? These things happen. Why?

I want to die, I’m not trying to harm myself but people don’t like that they feel I’m not trying to “fix” myself. As long as I keep making it to the next day, I will keep going until Life it self takes me out.

People hate hearing the truth and I’m scared sometimes to tell my truth when it comes to my depression because no one can understand. My truth is I am doing the very best I can despite the fact I don’t want to be here anymore. This is not a thought that just popped in my mind, this is something even as a young child I knew I didn’t want to be in the world, in my life or around all these people who don’t understand me.

This can be argued for hours… many will say one must do things to help prolong their life etc…

I’m here, doing what I can, trying my best. That’s all I have. Don’t make me feel guilty for making my own choices and using my own thought process to live my life the way I want. I give respect and I just want that same respect back.

I’ve become adapted to my anxiety, depression and my pain because it’s been there always, it grew up with me.

I’m naturally strong and I have a tough time being weak. I don’t need a “crutch.” I believe if something is going to happen it will happen no matter what you do. Of course we will always try to figure out how not to allow whatever to happen but so much is out of our control.

All I know is to fight, but everyday I want to give up. I don’t understand what I’m fighting for. I have never lived my life for me. I don’t even care about much anymore.

Nowadays I feel I’m not accomplishing anything. Everyday I’m attempting to hold on to what’s left of a dream and I’m constantly trying to get sleep. Before I know it the day goes by and I’m back into the night trying to fall asleep again.

Advertisements

Can’t Sleep 

It’s a little after five in the morning and I been up since yesterday, I can’t sleep. I’m crying still thinking of things said to me yesterday. 

I’m going to move on from it but it will always remain with me as a weight on my back. 

No one understands me and they all think they know me, it’s laughable. 

Here’s some things said to me yesterday by my mother, FYI she has major depression sees a therapist and psychologist and takes prescription drugs for it among other things. 

The first statement was said to me after she asked me a question but knew i was about to get started up and she wanted to stop me. This happens a lot because she can’t handle my truth and the way I see things and she doesn’t like when I remind her of my childhood. Yes she did the very best she could but she fails to realize I did my very best as well and that’s what I continue to do, my best without having a nervous breakdown and ending up being admitted into a hospital. 

“No I’m sorry I asked. Nope, I don’t want to hear what you have to say. I know whatever you’re about to say is going to be stupid.” 

These statements were said when I explained how I don’t agree with taking drugs. As if I’m going to pop a pill and it’s going to motivate me to want to live in this world. As if it’s going to make me a entirely different person. It’s going to make me look at life so much better and I’m going to be so happy and nothing will ever bother me or worry me again. 

“So when are you going to fix yourself?” 
“When are you going to get help?” 

This statement here I didn’t even understand. I guess life and living is about money. If I was working no matter how much I make, no matter how I feel, it would make people look at me as a better person. 

“It’s not that you’re unimportant, it’s that you don’t stay at a job for very long.” 

I’ve worked many jobs, longest time was eleven months. Every job I worked extremely hard, gave it my all. Mostly retail jobs but also some working with food. The most I ever got paid an hour was $9.50. Still living at home at the time I had to help pay bills. So it was impossible for me to save anything. I didn’t see how I would ever get enough money to get my own car or my own place to stay. I remember my mom told me that I wouldn’t be able to make it on my own or afford it. I only got praised when I was doing what I was told or she was in a loving, caring mood. 

Growing up life for me became more difficult every day. 

She hates when I say, “Well you wanted to have kids.” Or “I didn’t ask to be born.” 

I think it’s wrong for people to become parents and think that them doing what they think is the best they could do is good enough and after 18 years old sometimes sooner, that now it’s the child who has to figure out life from there. Being told “I didn’t have anyone to tell me how to do things or explain it to me. I had to figure it out on my own.” 

Wow, it’s just wrong. At some point the chain has to be broken. I love my mom so much but she should not have had me. I should not be here. 

I believe when I was born, both my parents were depressed and it got worst. My entire life I have been trying to fix myself. I’ve been trying to fit in. I’ve been trying to live as others do. My entire life I have not wanted to be here. 

I apologize for being a disappointment and not trying hard enough. Not being able to be someone who they can brag about. 

It’s not that I’m lazy I just can’t handle all the stress in the world. Stress of working and stress at home is just too much for me. It’s not that I want someone to support me it’s just I’m already working overtime tending to my mind, body and soul. The sad part is I believe I’m failing at that as well. 

Hear Me Loud and Clear 

I have said it and they seem not to want to believe me or refuse to hear me. I said it though, loud and clear. 

“I want to die because I’m not living.” 

I only live for others around me. I only live for the ones who claim they love me. I live because I refuse to give them motherfuckers another reason to talk bad about me. I can just imagine the things they would say. 

You can’t keep telling someone who wants to die to get a job. I clearly proved I’m not cut out for that. I tried little over ten times and I somewhat succeeded but then I failed over and over again. 

I said, I know I said it, loud and clear. 

“I want to die. I don’t want to be here.” 

Maybe they don’t believe me because I follow up with, “I don’t have it in my heart to do it, I just have thoughts about it sometimes.” 

How about supporting me in something I enjoy doing and that I’m good at, help me make a living with that. Nope, that would be to easy. You would actually have to care about me to want to do that. 

Do I just give in and be like everyone else, even though I tried already but give it another go and maybe at age 32 I will finally stay at a job for a year and have people still talk shit about me because they expected so much more from me than working as a cashier at some stupid store. That I’m too smart and I should be doing so much better. 

Oh another thing that people keep talking about is me having a baby. [Now why would God allow that when he knows I haven’t even figured out how to support myself yet.] They say things like… “When are you having some babies?” I think to myself like “Oh you know what I think I will make one tonight.” Is there some magic pill I don’t know about that I can magically get pregnant. People rarely ask if I even want kids. I have been married for eight years, these people don’t think we haven’t been trying. They don’t know if I have complications or whatever. 

I know most people are tired of their jobs or tired of doing the same old stuff etc… That is so much different than I’m tired of breathing, of feeling, of thinking. 

The difference between me and others are I’m the one who makes the ones I love feel better. Try to make them smile and even cater to them. Some may think that’s at least I can do for them providing for me, putting a roof over my head etc… I look at it as I’m good at this and they’re good at what they do. I try again to be who they are, then who will comfort me at the end of the day? Who will comfort them? Like cooking, cleaning etc… oh yeah it would still have to be me. 

Then this everyone wanting to be independent thing. Not having to depend on anyone. That makes me feel like, then why do I need you around me if I’m doing it all by myself. I have to love myself, I have to support myself, I have to encourage myself, I have to motivate myself… The fuck is anyone good for these days? Everyone claiming to be different but all trying to do the same things. Makes me want to die even more. 

I will never change and be like anyone else. Yet I will probably never kill myself even though I don’t want to wake up, but I’m more woke than most. I want my time to hurry up and come. I used to think that I may miss something if I was gone but I’m starting to think there won’t be and no one will truly miss me. They will only miss what I do for them, not actually miss me as a person. The things I do, they can pay someone to do.