My depression,....

My depression....
Nov 21, 2008 11:20 am224 Views
To say that certain events in my life were horrific, can be considered an understatement. The BMOC, continually raping and beating me, as well as the psychological warfare he committed against me, especially at the early age which I became involved with him, was a recipe for years of suffering with depression. I share this now, because I have become enlightened as to how I have become who I am. The BMOC, was so significant in creating the timid, depressed, confused teen that I was, as well as the irresponsible adult that I am. I say irresponsible, because well I have not been good to myself. I have not been responsible with my heart. My relationship with the BMOC, paved the way for my fucked up marriage. This is not to say that I am a victim, or that I will continue on a course of self-destruction, allowing crazy, psycho, abusive individuals into my life. My relationship with the Meteor taught me that. Throughout my teen and adult life, I have known that I probably SHOULD be in therapy. I've used prescription anti-depressants, and have been to therapy a few times. BUT, something always goes awry, and I lose trust and faith in the therapist. Suicide has been on my mind a few times in my life. I believe the reason why it has even crossed my mind as an option, is because I wasn't recognizing my depression as I was headed into that dark tunnel in my mind. As I have become older, and more at peace with things that have happened to me, and decisions I have made, I am more adept at recognizing it before it becomes a life or death situation. Let me be clear. I have never made a suicide attempt. The reason for this is because I could not think of a method that was completely without fail. I always thought of reasons how I would screw it up. OR that I simply did not have the knowledge to pull it off successfully. I can't stand the sight of my own blood. I didn't have natural access to drugs that would do the deed. Never lived anywhere with a garage. Don't know how to tie a noose. I don't have access nor the ability to use a gun. AND so on and so forth. I didn't want to make a mistake. If I failed, I'd be worse off. In other words....I was so hopeless, so in despair, that I'd probably fuck up my own death too. That's very sad. At these times in my life, I felt so hopeless, that I knew I'd fail. So why bother trying? Prior to the events I most recently wrote about, (the Meteor wanting a divorce and the events that followed...) I fell on some pretty hard depression. I was realizing that I didn't have the energy to keep up appearances for the rest of my life. The life I wanted for myself wasn't within reach, in fact I couldn't even see it anymore. I was without hope, or dreams of the future. My future was bleak, and stark, and I didn't know how to fix it, nor did I believe I had the strength or knowledge to change it. So after thinking on it for a few days, I came up with a method that I felt was fail-proof. Now, I needed to wait for the perfect moment.