Let's not mince words here. I am cruel. In 2014 I overdosed to end my life and by pure dumb luck my Wife found me, barely responsive. The medication I had taken wiped most of my memories for the day, but I do know that when I would wake up in the hospital, I would ask my wife if I was dead, and when she said no I would start crying. Sad. But that is what I have been told.
Since then, I have conveyed to her in no uncertain terms that it is her fault I am alive. I don't particularly enjoy life. I lack meaningful purpose, although I am pursuing it, and just feel like dead weight. For some reason, that I truly don't understand, she takes this well and lets me know that she is pleased I am here. Even if I don't want to be. She must see something that I cannot.
That begs the question, how exactly do I live a life that I don't want. Questions like these don't help the dark passage I am currently going through, but it's an unavoidable truth. I obviously have some will, even if it is Forced. This morning was difficult. I did make it out of bed and drove myself to school. Often times getting out helps me. Being amongst others helps force normality. But today I just sat in my car. I didn't want to get out. I wanted to stay and sleep, or just be alone. I , again, forced myself, but got no reprieve from being in public. I just sad here for a while, wanting to cry but knowing I had to remain. Please, just let me go. Just let me go home, fall asleep, melt into the ground, fade to nothing, and never return.
I don't want to be here. That is a common theme of the last decade. Such a thing desire I cannot force. How do I accept being here "against my will?" How can I ever find a purpose?
Where to go from here? I'm running out of the force required to make myself live.
This post first appeared on Somehow Forward - My Struggle With Bipolar Depression And Suicide, please read the originial post: here