When Nothing Matters

By Laura Booker

Most people don’t understand depression and the appeal to commit suicide unless you have been through it.  The die-hard religious think that taking your own life is a sin, which is absurd.  But to those who feel there is no other way out, death is a blessing, all the pain and suffering finally goes away, which also applies to assisted suicide but due to the agony of slowly dying from a terrible disease or other health complication.  When people get depressed and suicidal, they really don’t want to die, they just want to be happy but it seems impossible at that moment.

I have dealt with depression my whole life, so I can only express my viewpoint and struggles.  Anything can start it, work-related stress, financial pressures, poor body image, heartbreak and relationship issues are the main culprits, when there is a combination, the further I sink, feeling so alone and nobody can possibly comprehend.  I would think that if I was dead, then co-workers would be screwed since nobody knows and understands my position, debtors may get paid from my life insurance and with my Mother receiving what’s left.  Whatever guy I love at the time but doesn’t feel the same way about me won’t need to runaway since I disappeared.  I get so tired of all the physical and ever-lasting emotional pain, don’t want to go through it any more.  I modified the prayer, Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, changing it to Let Me Die Before I Wake, but when morning comes and I’m still alive, I’m totally disappointed and have to face another damn day, will drag myself to work, fighting back tears, hoping that certain people are not critical that would send me over the edge or if anyone even notices I’m more withdrawn when I am a private person and don’t socialize much anyway.  I feel like I’m going deeper into a dark hole that is so difficult to climb out of, my eyelids so heavy and swollen, suspecting if anyone can tell that I’ve been crying.  I don’t have the luxury of staying home to drown in my sorrows, I have to work to pay those blood-sucking bills.

When I’m in that somber place, nothing seems to matter, all of my confidence at work, being a strong independent woman, trying to maintain any beauty, it all goes out the shattered window.  I wonder why I was even born only to never feel complete happiness, except for only a few sporadic moments.

When I imagine the different ways to die, I don’t want it to be by my own hand, but not because it’s a ‘sin’; could be by a car accident; house fire – would save my furry babies but not get out myself, I want to be cremated anyway; maybe from a deadly disease – not get treated and let it take over my body: perhaps from the flu or other deadly virus; a heart attack caused by extreme stress or from high cholesterol; I’m curious if I’m already slowly killing myself from the GERD stomach acid that could cause esophagus cancer or damaging my liver from taking OTC pain meds several times a day since I was 15 years old.  Doubt many people would miss me very much except for my Mother.  All I ask is that good people to take care of my critters.

My episodes can last a few days to months, depending on what’s going on.  Sometimes I gradually flow up from my hell, sometimes a call from the one I love makes all the difference, other times just something making me really laugh will snap me out of the funk.  Expressing myself in writing has been my therapy for several years, although my secret dark thoughts are not usually allowed to be read.

Seeking treatment for depression is a personal decision, whether it’s through medication, talking to a psychologist, religion, hobbies or anything positive that helps.   For those who have never had the despair are lucky but cannot sympathize, for some people it only hits once when a devastating ordeal happens, but for those of us who have chronic depression, just saying ‘snap out of it’ does not help (a former bank co-worker said that to me, which is ironic when she was Bipolar).  Depression runs on both sides of my family, so am I doomed? Sometimes I think so but I also try extremely hard to not follow that road and overcome my demons.

When I start to ascend up through that ebony tunnel, reminding myself of those who have chastise me are idiots and don’t have a clue; the guys who have broken my heart are the ones who lose because I am Awesome; I will probably never get back down to a size 8 especially since I’m not at all athletic and may never really love my ‘curves’, but it’s all me; bills will get paid one way or the other.  I need to get back to my easy-going goofy self again and let all of that crap bounce off my suit of armor.  I have so much more to give and do in life.  Just watch me soar like a phoenix.