Showing posts with label suicidal depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label suicidal depression. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Self-Esteem, Self-Worth...or C) None of the Above

"I'm going to ask a question that will probably shock everyone in this room that I'm asking....you know, it all sounds great on the surface, but when you look a little closer at your resume, there's a year here, a year there, and it doesn't seem like you've stayed any place for very long...can I ask why?" --Interviewer (2 weeks ago)

I have answered this question, in all its various forms, time and time again.  

I have concocted versions of the truth, and flat-out lies.  

I have summoned confidence I don't really possess to emphasize all the right things, instead of all the things that make me look bad.  


But the truth is, it doesn't matter.



The 7 years that I *was* with the same employer....they don't matter.  

Straight A's and Summa Cum Laude?  Doesn't matter.  

The 3 extra years I spent earning a Master's?  High school dropouts make more than I do right now.

Volunteering and going the extra mile?  Don't make me laugh.



It is my fault.  I am the one who left the job where I was making good money in return for being treated like shit.  It was my decision to stand up for myself, my decision to quit, and my decision to drive to Nashville to kill myself.  

The problem, ironically, is that I didn't kill myself.  

The way this has fucked up my life...well, it just makes me wish I had.  Choosing to live has ruined my life.  Years of unemployment and suicidal depression...the ensuing downward spiral....

Through it all, I haven't given up.  Through all the dismissal and rejection, I plodded through five hundred twenty-five thousand job applications until one day - yes! - one day, it all paid off....

There is so much more dignity in being underemployed, rather than just unemployed.  Even though my degree is worth twice what I am making, at least I am in the field.  I can always console myself with that when I think of trash collectors making double my income.  

It's not that I wasn't bitter before this job interview two weeks ago; it's that I forgot how bitter I was, being fortunate enough to have a job to go to every day.  I was dumb enough to go out on a limb and apply for the position my degree tells me I am qualified for....and end up rejected once again.  The irony is, I was feeling more confident than ever because I finally have 9 months of steady employment in my field with great references!  So much for that.  

At least I gave it a shot.  Yes, it made me feel like absolute shit afterwards, but what doesn't.  The important thing is that I had the self-worth to believe I deserved it...for a moment, anyway.  

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Depression: The Invisible Prison

I used to wish for cancer. 

Pray for it, even, which is a backwards thing for an agnostic to do...but then, no godly person could get away with praying for death. 

I would hear these stories of wonderful, beloved people being robbed of their futures, happily-ever-after with their partners, the chance to see their children grow up....

...and you know what I felt? Envy. 

I was jealous that these people got a free ticket out of this house of horrors - and didn't even WANT it - while I was being forced to stay against my will. 

I know; sickening.

And because it's such a twisted and disgusting thought process, I would feel immense guilt over it. I was ashamed to be frittering away my existence with suffering, while others who actually *wanted* their lives and their family and their friends - who could actually enjoy being here - would not be allowed to stay.   

The guilt may have had less to do with my perverse death wish than the fact that I was not living the life I had been given; I was wasting it.

One day after the next, I wallowed in the cesspool of depression, rejecting life. I would walk by this poem I had pasted on my fridge: "
I Will Not Die an Unlived Life" and feel horrible about how horrible my life was, because that is a depressed brain does.

I was reminded of all of this today when reading a paradoxical post by Adam Alvarado at
The Last Broken Home: What a [Death Row Inmate] Can Teach You About Being Yourself -


"We can piss away one more day being angry, and vengeful, and sad – about crap that’s gone by, and passed by, and no longer a part of ourselves or our future. Another day being afraid of so much, and hurt by so much, and less than our better selves because of it."


Isn't that exactly what I did for 5 years?

I may as well have been in prison. 

Hell, there IS no worse prison than our own minds. We sit there suffering day after day, waiting for someone to come let us out...only to find out one day that the door was never even locked.

A friend of mine once blogged at "The Invisible Prison" (which she has since taken down, much to my dismay). There couldn't be a more fitting metaphor for suicidal depression. From the outside, no one can glean any possible reason for this self-imposed sentence. There are no bars, no chains, no guards...

...yet we're not so much afraid that door will never open; we're afraid that it WILL, and we'll have to face the world once again.

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Sunday, September 12, 2010

“You’re only as sick as your secrets” – Ashley Judd plays the role of Helen TOO well . . .



I’d love to spill *all* million thoughts I have about the release of Helen, but I’ll settle for expressing my gratitude to Sandra Nettelbeck for having the courage to make this film, a 10-year process she describes in this Huffington Post interview. Despite the movie’s leap from Sundance straight to DVD, the very fact that this taboo subject matter is seeing the cinematic light of day gives me hope that the door to increased understanding has been opened. The movie will strike a chord deep in the souls of all who have suffered the torment of their inner demons as it explores “this extraordinary nightmare of the mind from inside.” Nettelbeck bravely assumed the task of telling the tale of suicidal depression from the point of view of the person afflicted. Yes, we glimpse the devastating impact on everyone around Helen, but it’s not often a movie portrays the depth of despair the sufferer is undergoing. Having lost her own childhood friend to suicide, Nettelbeck undoubtedly sought to do justice to the fragility of human life, and Helen’s poignantly disturbing denouement attains the intense realism she strove for.



Just a few of the dynamics at play in Helen which resonated with me:


Rage. NO ONE will control your decisions. If nothing else, you will live and die on your own terms.


“I want you to GO!” Pushing away the very people we, in fact, wish would never let us go. Every relationship is tested to its limits in pushing ‘unconditional love’ to the brink.


Ambivalence. You’re always teetering on the verge, wanting death as little as you want life.


Destruction. As Judd portrays so well, self-indulgence in the compelling urge to destroy yourself and everything around you is sometimes overpowering.


Impulsivity. Hair trigger. Any little thing or - more importantly – *nothing in particular* could send you over the edge . . . and that is terrifying to loved ones.


Flight risk. At any given moment you might up and leave. Because you can. You are done staying in places you don’t want to be.


There comes a point when there’s nowhere left to run or hide. Believe me, I have done both for as long as possible . . . nearly three years to be precise. The choice to “get busy living, or get busy dying” cannot be interminably dodged.


Helen can’t give us the “why” or “how” or "cure" of depression – as those answers remain elusive to researchers, psychiatrists, counselors, and sufferers alike – but its authenticity hit home enough to make me want to own my life again (as if I ever had a choice). Judd reminded me that the only thing that can save us – if anything can – is honesty. She has spent time in the grips of severe depression herself (see her interview here), and I look forward to her upcoming autobiography with great anticipation. “Her no-holds-barred portrayal brought me closer than was comfortable to feeling what it must be like to be severely depressed.” --Read Joseph Smigelski’s full review here, along with a Q & A with Judd.

Listen to "No Place to Fall" from the soundtrack:
(featuring Norah Jones of The Little Willies)



“If I had no place to fall 

and I needed to

could I count on you

to lay me down…”