Saturday, November 08, 2008

This is the one where I get serious.

C

ardiogirl asked a question on her blog Friday (as she does every Friday).

"Would you give up half of what you now own for a pill that would permanently change you so that one hour of sleep each day would fully refresh you? Do you feel you have enough time? If not, what would give you that feeling? How much has your attitude about time changed as you’ve aged?"

----------------
Listening to: Luther Vandross - A House Is Not A Home via FoxyTunes

My answer to the first question was "No". I'm already poor. I literally could not live on half of what I have now.

But I felt that the second part was too deep to go into without writing a very lengthy reply in her comment section.

So here's my expanded answer:

----------------
Listening to: K7 - Come Baby Come via FoxyTunes

When I was younger, starting at age 13, I was suffering from undiagnosed depression. It wasn't until I was 19 and had my first job with insurance that I actually went to see a shrink.

My parents were not supportive of therapy. My father's exact words were "I never had anyone to talk to when I was younger, and I turned out ok." (That's debatable.) My loving Mommy Dearest was too concerned with other people finding out that she had a child seeing a shrink to take me to get help.

I tried to kill myself various times.

1. Drinking Hydrogen Peroxide (I didn't know it wasn't poisonous).
2. Drinking Rubbing Alcohol. (That just made me really drunk.)
3. With all the pills & alcohol in the house, which wasn't much. That's the time that I told MD what I'd done and asked her if she was going to take me to the emergency room. She said no.

...

4. I filled up the sink with water and plunged my blow dryer into it while it was running. It just started blowing out water.

----------------
Listening to: The Isley Brothers - Who's That Lady via FoxyTunes

6. I tried injecting air into my veins with one of those things you use to inject marinades into a roast or a turkey. Didn't work, but it hurt like hell.

7. I tried slitting my wrists. I didn't know that it would have worked better had I done it vertically instead of horizontally. I still have a small scar on one of my wrists from that incident.

8. Then I tried taking a whole pack of OTC sleeping pills. Which just kept me up so long that I was hallucinating.

So, all through my teen years, I couldn't wait for my life to be over.

I sincerely felt that God hated me and that he was having a grand time up in the heavens laughing at my misery.

There were many times I wanted to drive my car off a bridge into the water. The only reason I didn't is because I've failed at killing myself so many times I just knew that I wouldn't get hurt, but my car would be totaled.

It never stopped me from speeding. Or drinking & driving. I passively tried to kill myself until I got pregnant.

That's when I finally thought "Maybe that's why I'm here. To raise this boy who will grow up to be the first black president or find a cure for cancer or something."

I no longer speed. I no longer drink & drive (not that I did it often, because I don't drink very often). But has my attitude about death changed?

Not really.

I want to live long enough for Evan to graduate from HS so that he won't have to live with my mother if I die.

That is my only goal.

There really isn't anything that I just have to do before I die. I don't have a bucket list.

----------------
Listening to: Faith Evans - Love Like This via FoxyTunes

I'm ready to go at any time. I would like to live to see my son as a grown man. But there's nothing I can really do about it.

I think that's why I continue to smoke. Slow suicide.

Just in case you're wondering, no I'm not suicidal. I'm not even depressed. This is the happiest I've ever been. My life is as good as it can be without having sex a couple of times a week, nodamene?

I just have no desire to live forever, or even to a ripe old age like my grandmother.

I'm tired of the same shit every day.

Then there's the multiple sclerosis.

I've seen Richard Pryor and Annette Funicello. I've seen my cousin who died at 30something from MS. I don't want to end up like that - in a wheelchair and dependent on other people to change my diapers and feed me.

----------------
Listening to: Destiny's Child - Say My Name via FoxyTunes

Ok, I guess my attitude has changed.

I'm not actively seeking death. But I'm not actively seeking life, either.

I'm in survival mode.

*sigh*

That's all.


Popular Posts

LinkWithin

Related Posts Widget for Blogs by LinkWithin

Search This Blog