Fuck It

Today I was supposed to have an appointment with the new case manager.  She never showed up.  I thought she was better than the old one, but apparently not.

I’d worked myself up to asking for more help.  I was going to tell her that I’m not sleeping and I’m severely depressed.  I was going to ask for therapy.  But then she didn’t bother to show up or call or anything, so fuck it.  I’m done trying.  I’m done looking for help.  I’m done trying to squeeze water from stones.

I’ll just stop even trying to get better.  I’ve tried and tried and tried, but I cannot do it without decent support.  So fuck it all.  I’ll just stay in my apartment, sleep all day, and binge and purge all night.  Clearly the people who could help don’t believe I’m worth saving, so why should I keep trying so hard?  I’m not important.  Eventually I’ll die–my heart will stop because of electrolyte imbalances, I’ll have a GI bleed, or my intestine will perforate.  A few people will be sad for a while, but overall the world won’t be any worse off when I’m dead.  I’m not contributing anything to society, so my absence won’t leave any big holes.  Just one less welfare queen.  Just one less pathetic loser who can’t function.  No big loss.  All I do is take money and resources that someone better than me could put to better use, someone who might actually do something useful with their life.  Spend that money on someone who matters, someone who can actually be saved.

Because I won’t be saved.  I could be, but apparently I don’t matter enough.  So for fuck’s sake, at least save someone.

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14 Comments

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14 responses to “Fuck It

  1. I am so sorry Hope. I used to work with useless case managers like that. Fuck her. I want to scream with you. You are not a welfare queen. This made me cry. We are always one step away from where you are and we know that. We love you Hope. Just wanted to say that.

  2. I am so sorry you are not getting the care that you deserve. You are giving to society by writing your blog. I could totally relate to your feelings of not being useful to society. I struggle with that all the time.
    . I have been very blest with good care that has helped me to come to the place I am in today – a place of bliss and suffering. Hang in there and keep searching for good care. You are deserving of it.

    • Unfortunately, continuing to search for good care will get me exactly nowhere. There is good treatment available, but only for people who can afford to pay for it. I’m not one of those people. Literally my only option is the Department of Mental Health. There are no other options for affordable treatment, so keeping on looking for other options would be about as useful as keeping on hurling myself off of buildings and hoping I’ll fly. Not gonna happen and will just cause more pain.

  3. I want to hit her! W What a bitch to not show up. You really deserve someone who will take the time to see you, hear you, and listen. Unfortunately so many of these case managers don’t give a damn. I am sorry. That really sucks. Know that I am here supporting you through this. XX

    • They’re not paid enough to give a damn, and they don’t have the education or experience to be helpful. If I told them how bad things are, I’m sure they’d lock me up in the hospital…and then I’d get out and be in exactly the same shitty situation as before.

  4. Hope, that is awful to have got to the point where you felt able to say how bad things are and for her not to show up.
    Am hoping she is in touch soon to explain why and apologise.

    You do have lots to offer. Your words have certainly helped [a few of] me several times before. You matter, but I know how hollow that can come across on a screen.

    Wish we could sit beside you and remind you that you are not alone.

    xxx

    • No call, no contact, no nothing. Whatever. I don’t even really care anymore. They’re not going to help me, so I’m done. If she calls, I just won’t answer. If she shows up, I just won’t answer the door. It hurts more to keep hoping these people will help me and being forgotten than it does to just quit hoping.

      • Can understand that decision…it makes sense. Survival instincts sometimes mean backing into a corner and isolating from further harm being inflicted.

        Youre right…to have hope in people who continually fail is exhausting and soul destrying.

        Just wish there was something, anything I could do that could offer practical help, rather than what probably seem like hollow words on a computer screen.

        Thinking of you.

        Sorry things are so shit.

        xxx

  5. Why the hell is it that they only take notice when you are literally bleeding out?! I could scream for you. Believe me, anyone who writes like you do is not a welfare queen, nor are you useless. There’s still something there that makes me read your words. x

    • Screaming wouldn’t even do any good with these people. Apparently their clients just don’t matter, or at least I don’t. If this had just happened with the old case manager, I could write it off as one bad apple. But two is a pattern of negligence. I’m not really a person to them.

  6. I hate being made invisible and it’s even worse when it is done to someone I care about. Xx thinking of you with love.

  7. I found I had to save myself. It was hard… but nobody could care about me more than I HAD to care about myself. We’re the ones who live with ourselves… “help” is only there for an hour, and then they go on to the next person. That’s not to sound hopeless- but to just say what I had to do. I and no therapists in my town after I got home from treatment. I had to change my own head, based on the bits of info they gave me inpatient. ❤

    • I don’t expect anyone to magically fix me or save me. I’m more than willing to work my ass off to get better, but the simple fact of the matter is I cannot do it by myself. At this point, I’m no longer capable of saving myself. I’ve tried so hard for so long that I have nothing left. There’s just too much for me to manage it all. I could manage mental illness. I could manage physical illness. I could manage poverty. But I cannot manage all of them. They’re all unrelenting and constant, and I’m out of energy and hope. I’ve been swimming furiously to keep my head above water for years, but I can feel my body giving out–metaphorically and literally. No one can try forever when things just keep getting worse and the water keeps getting deeper.

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