After my adventures with many medications, four hospital stays, ECT, and TMS, I thought I had finally managed to at least get my depression down to a manageable level. This past week, I've been feeling emotionally numbed, like I really can't feel much of anything (this is one form my depression sometimes takes, as opposed to the kind where I really feel horrible), and a day or two after that started, I started having more thoughts about wishing I was dead or dying, how nice it would be to just overdose on sleeping meds and fall asleep and never wake up, and wishing I had a terminal illness so nature would do the job for me. These thoughts have only been increasing since they appeared. I really don't want to go back to the hospital, but I'm afraid at this rate, that may be coming soon. It's just so crushing to endure this for fourteen years and to think I finally saw a light at the end of the tunnel of despair just to have it snuffed out before I could quite reach it.
I don't know why I'm bothering to post about this again. I've posted about it multiple times and no one's responded. In my last thread about depression and stuff (which I think was two or three years ago, granted), I had to flat-out ask for support multiple times in order to get anyone to respond. It's not like they can really help or reassure me, I'll grant them that. I guess all I really want is some kind of acknowledgement, maybe even some sympathy. But don't worry, if this goes ignored too I'll just stop annoying people by talking about it and otherwise carry on as usual. Goodness knows I've had more than enough experience being ignored that I darn well ought to be used to it by now.
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Yet in my new wildness and freedom I almost welcome the bitterness of alienage. For although nepenthe has calmed me, I know always that I am an outsider; a stranger in this century and among those who are still men.
-H. P. Lovecraft, "The Outsider"