Out

I want out of my life. It’s empty and meaningless, and nothing makes me feel better for long enough to matter.

Do other people really feel like their lives have meaning? Do any of them actually want to get out of bed in the morning? They must. I’ve felt that way, even. But now I feel so empty I can’t really believe anyone else feels otherwise. I don’t really even want to die–I just don’t want to have to wake up unless things feel better.

I want someone to love me. I want to be a child again, but this time with a good family of people who actually love me. I want to redo my life without all the trauma and its consequences. I think that’s the only way I can ever get better. God knows I’ve tried all the other options.

It’s impossible, of course. Nobody can undo time. I can’t have what will heal me, and I hate myself so much for needing it that I can barely resist the impulse to rip myself apart.

You don’t DESERVE to be fixed, you know. You don’t deserve to be loved. Everybody knows that about you. Everybody.

I know. I’m sorry. I try to stop wanting, but I don’t know how. I can’t grow up. I’m too perfectly stuck. >

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18 Comments

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18 responses to “Out

  1. happilydpressed

    I understand that feeling. I’d like nothing more than to take all the pills I’ve been hoarding. But I can’t.

    I’m sorry hope. All I can say is someone does care about you. Even if you don’t know. And there’s mired than this to life. We just have to find it

  2. kat

    i am not one of those perky, upbeat morning people. i am like you-i just want to stay oblivious until things are better, until life is worth living. i have been waiting a long long time, and unfortunately i was not entirely oblivious for all these years, but only for a short few. i have looked, but have not found, meaning or reason or worth in life to want to stay. except for my kids, and they are soon to be leaving the nest. so what reason then?

  3. They are so hard, the years when you feel like this. A kind of numb agony. You can rebuild a life that you love. There’s a lot of grief for the life you have lost, but hearts want to dream again. X

    • I’ve heard rebuild so many times, but I don’t know anymore. Rebuild implies that there was something there before, and for me there never was. I don’t have a foundation, and I have no idea where or how to start. I’ve had all the treatment in the world, but I still end up here over and over. I keep building houses on sand because there is nothing else in my world.

      • That’s true, some of us don’t get any place good to sink our roots. It’s a terrible loss to grieve, and nothing makes up for it. It’s okay to be overwhelmed by that. It’s human to feel stuck, confused, despairing, when faced with overwhelming losses. Sometimes we push ourselves to move on too fast, we’re trying to rebuild when we’re still grieving. The bitterness and hopelessness people feel when they’re permanently disabled, or disfigured, or their child dies, or do many of the ways people are deeply wounded and challenged feel so profound and so personal it seems that no one else could possibly understand our share them. Yet so many people do, and so many people do go on to find – or make – a sense of meaning, joy, love in their lives. I don’t know what your path is, but there will be a way out of this place for you too. x

  4. No way to undo the crappy childhood, I agree. But one can move past it. You have written about working on political campaigns. You find meaning in that don’t you? Does getting out for a walk help your mood? I know this long Nee England winter is getting the best of many folks.

    • Even the campaign stuff feels pointless at this point. My candidates will either get elected or they won’t. What I’m doing doesn’t make any real difference. If I weren’t there, they’d find somebody else to fill the role.

      I don’t mind the winter that much, although warmer weather would be nice. But my problems are existential, not meteorological.

      • Sorry. I grab for straws, or tilt at windmills. When I can not solve the BIG stuff I try and distract myself, or others, with just about anything.

  5. From one survivor to anither, there will be a moment in your life where you will feel meaning and purpose. Right now, you are grieving what you cannot change. I am sorry you had trauma. I like how happilydepressed said she cares for you. I do too. Survivors hold the hope until other survivors can. Love yourself in spite of what you feel. There has been many dark days in my life. The most notable one was my wanting to just sleep without waking up. I woke up. I woke up sprawled out on the staircase. I couldn’t understand how I woke up. I just did. This depressed me in such a way. I felt like a failure. Today, I don’t regret waking up. I am living the best life I can. I have grieved a very long time for the little girl in me stiffled to not be heard. I grieved for the survivor in me having had to do what I did. I forgive those parts of me that carried my abusers and rapist’s shame. I accept the impact of trauma on my ability to live. Just like Maya Angelou said she refuses to be reduced by what happened to her. I live life on my terms–actually…I am learning to live life on my own terms. I know you xan experience this too. One thing I wish for you is that I hope you learn how to do self-care. Self-care is hard to do when we’ve been taught to neglect our own needs. Be kind to you. You do deserve what you question about others feeling. You deserve love, tenderness, gentleness, hope and so much more.

    • I’m glad things have improved for you and that you’re glad you’re alive.

      But I’ve been told for years that I will get better, and I don’t. Not for lack of trying, either. I’ve done all the therapy, all the treatments, everything people said would help. Sometimes something helps for a little while, but I always end up back in this void, and I can’t find any way of changing that.

      I admire people who can refuse to be reduced by what happened to them, but I’m not one of those people.

  6. Juliet

    Just saying that I can relate too. I’m at the same point in life, or somewhere near. I know that doesn’t necessarily help but I’m reading your blog posts because they speak to me about what I’m feeling inside but hide even from myself, mostly…
    I wish I knew what to say to make you feel better but I agree with happily depressed… we must keep looking x

  7. I just found your blog and have only read from the most recent posts to here so far, but sometimes I feel like I am reading about myself! I know exactly the feeling you describe in mornings and I have always tried to imagine what it must be like to be one of those people who wake up ready to get up and start their day, instead of having to use everything they have just to get up sometimes. I wish I had the answers. I’m struggling with so many of the same things right now and feel like I’m at my last hope, trying this EMDR with my new therapist. If it doesn’t work, I don’t see a way out. All I can say right now is that you’re not alone and probably more normal than you think. If only being normal was enough to make us feel better….

    • I’m sorry you’re struggling too. I hope the EMDR helps. If you ever feel like talking to someone, I’m around my computer/phone/email most of the time.

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