A Fate Worse than Death……

22 Nov

Yet again I find myself awake at 3am.  The sick paradox of my mental health is that, when all I want to do is sleep as much as possible and in doing so not have to face the pathetic existence laughingly called a ‘life’, I am unable to do so.  I usually follow a convoluted pattern of sleepless nights followed by whole days when I am unable to keep my eyes open.  The former being more predominant than the latter.  Having nothing to do and feeling incapable of performing even the most basic of task it feels like a slow painful torture which is driving me slowly but surely insane.  I wish that when I do sleep I could drift off into oblivion and never wake up.  I fear death in the same way as I feared not being born.  I don’t recall spending an eternity worrying about not being born and feel being dead is not dissimilar in that once you’re gone you don’t know it.  I wish upon myself a fatal intervention where I get accidentally run over by a bus or get crushed under a lorry.  That way I wouldn’t have to take my own life and the guilt which keeps from taking that step would be removed and my death could be put down to ‘one of those things’.

Considering the recent death of my dear Dad, who never did anything to hurt anyone in his life and, the current state of my sister’s health which is rapidly deteriorating only adds to the guilt I feel for wanting not to live.  The guilt is the only thing that keeps me from taking the final step to end things.

I feel disempowered, isolated and unable to change things.  ‘One step at a time’ the councillor says.  One step in my position is not enough.  If I took one step per day it would still take a lifetime to undo what I have become and where I find myself.  There is no hope on my horizon, no light at the end of my tunnel.  I feel as if things can only get worse, have lost the will to live and spend my life in bed, this computer my only link to the outside world.  The phone never rings.  I have no social life and take part in no activities.  I survive on one meal per day and if that were not cooked for me by my long suffering Mother I would probably have starved by now.

Depression, although not obviously a physical illness, is as debilitating as other diseases which leave the victims bed bound and incapable of caring for themselves.

I am on a one way journey to death, the sooner the better……


2 Responses to “A Fate Worse than Death……”

  1. passionfortruths November 22, 2011 at 6:15 am #


    Like yourself I contemplate a lot about life. Y’know , been through ups and downs, etc.

    In the end, life makes sense, although when living through tough times, the opposite seems true.

    Wishing you light and love.

    • A Dripping Tap November 26, 2011 at 1:21 pm #


      Thanks for your words of support. At least someone understands where I’m at. I’ll check out your posts. It’s a scary world out there and I don’t think I was designed to live in it!

      Steve… x

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