I Pray, Dear Lord, My Soul To Take...

"Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray dear Lord my soul to keep;
If I should die before I wake
I pray dear Lord my soul to take"

Almost nightly, now, I pray that God would simply erase me from this earth. I don't want to be alive any more. I'm done with this. All of it. There is nothing that I look forward to, nothing that I could not do without experiencing, as long as it means I am finally able to quiet this earth.

I pray, dear lord, my soul to take. Please, God. Please release me...

I'd Like To Give Up Now, Please

I'd like to be done (I am done, really, I just cannot bring myself to do anything about it). That way it doesn't matter that there are student loans to be paid (something I cannot do since I have no money). Doesn't matter that I need information so that I can apply for social security (because the state doesn't want to have to deal with me). Doesn't matter that the powers that be at social security will tell me no (a stressor that I really don't need as my last overdose hase proven that I don't take being told that I'm full of $&!% -a rejection for services- well). Doesn't matter that I am having coffee with my dad in an hour and a half. Doesn't matter that my sister, brother-in-law, niece and nephew will be here in the wee hours of the morning. Doesn't matter that I have family to visit. Doesn't matter that all I want to do is go home and die. Because I will be done.

If I could only bring myself to do that to the people who care about me. Because it is not for myself that I stay alive. If I had my way I would be long gone by now.

If they really understood this hell I'm in they would let me go. I am sure of it. They wouldn't ask me to stay and endure this.

You know I pray for God to simply erase me from this earth (if I'm am erased completely then no one will be hurt)... Apparently He doesn't love me enough to do that...

If the powers that be know this...

Mental Illness Leading Cause of Disability in Youth

Then why in the world did it take two rejections and an overdose before I got the assistance for anything resembling the help I need (the short term benefits program I was finally allowed does not cover the DBT that would be most helpful to me as someone lives with sever depression and takes out strong or unwanted emotion on themselves in less than appropriate ways such as self injury). To add insult to injury I have since been asked to apply for social security, no doubt in an attempt to shift the burden of care from the state to the federal government. I expect they will also tell me no, a stressor that I don't really need right now.

*sigh* I know I'm looking a gift horse in the mouth but at the same time... *shrugs* It's still frustrating...

See? It's not just me...

Job 3:20-26, New International Version
"Why is light given to those in misery, and life to the bitter of soul, to those who long for death that does not come, who search for it more than for hidden treasure,who are filled with gladness and rejoice when they reach the grave? Why is life given to a man whose way is hidden, whom God has hedged in? For sighing comes to me instead of food; my groans pour out like water.What I feared has come upon me; what I dreaded has happened to me. I have no peace, no quietness; I have no rest, but only turmoil."

... And yet... it's not so much that I want to die... I just don't want to be alive any more. Those of you who have been here (I'm sorry) will understand. Those of you who have no idea what I am talking about... praise God for it. I hope you never do understand.

I just want to be done. To cease.

"To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd."
~Hamlet, Act III, Scene I

This could be important...

As I sit here blinking owlishly at my cup of coffee reminding myself that it can do nothing to aid in the waking process if I do not drink it (I am too tired even to do that) I am once again struck by the realization that I do not tolerate fatigue well. In just the last hour the thought that I could over dose on several things I have in my apartment has flitted through my head not once, but two(three?) times (in what is not so much a desire to die but a very borderline -read:unreasonable- reaction to having once again been forgotten/'dropped/or simply ignored). What is more it seems likely that, exhausted as I am I am exponentially more likely to go through with such a rash action (which would land me in the ER -and quite possibly in a psych ward this time- if the little bit of caffeine I have consumed wakes my brain up enough to realize the foolishness -not to mention selfishness what with my Uncle so recently dead- of said rash action).

This could very well be something important to note, not to mention to share with whatever professional cares to know (and at this point it seems that only my doctor might be interested in such a revelation -being overly tired also makes me more impatient and less likely to utilize the 'filter' that I have for such comments-). What to do about it, however, may not be as simple a matter. Surely a sleep aid would allow me to get the rest I need but sleeping pills and such are popular medications to use when overdosing (I have not done so myself, more likely than not simply because I have not had any to overdose with and so have had to use what I had available).

The bright side of this fatigue, at this minute anyway, is that I am not sure I am awake enough even to take the pills necessary to overdose (remember, I have not even finished half a cup of coffee for the simple reason that I seem to be unable to do no more than stare at it)... how I managed this post, I have no idea (except that I feel it could be important and I remember things better when they are written down somewhere I can go back to later).

We shall see...

Why? And how do I make it stop..?

It was something small. Really, I believe the thought went something like this (though not quite as complete... you know how you can have just enough of a thought to get the idea... oh never mind, just trust me): "More things my Auntie and I have in common, and I'm the favorite niece" after which quickly followed "Oh don't be so stupid, like it's a big deal" (I'm not usually very nice or patient with myself). That's it. Nothing huge. And yet the thought that followed hard on the heels of the 'Oh don't be so stupid' thought 'Man, I wish I could cut' (I purposefully did not bring a razor blade with me -I'm away from home this weekend-... hard decision, let me tell you)!?!

Why? It was such a tiny thing and yet it leads me to thoughts of self harm. Now granted this weekend is a little stressful (my Uncles funeral is tomorrow)... but it's like that all the time any more. Something so small and I want to hurt myself. I don't understand this! And it actually makes me feel worse because I know it's unreasonable. I know it's not right. And it brings me full circle again, wanting to cut, wanting to hurt.

I'm so tired of this. I'm tired of wanting to hurt myself over every little thing. I'm tired of the thoughts of self harm and of suicide that plague me on a daily basis. I don't understand this; I don't understand any of it. And I hate it.

So... how do I make it stop..?

A Self Harm Tantrum

I have been dropped. For what reason, I do not know, but I haven't heard from anyone in over two weeks. Now I suppose I could just call and see what is up... that would be the most logical thing to do, would it not? *shakes head* No, I can't do that, I'd just be bothering them (these are my thoughts, by the way, forget the fact that I know they're unreasonable) and besides, I'm not sure who I'd ask for. So instead of doing the logical, adult thing, I turn whatever this is that I am feeling (anger? hurt? I don't know what it is, I only know that it doesn't feel good) inward and throw a bit of a 'self harm tantrum'. Because I am not really 27 despite what my birth certificate might say; I am actually seven and I throw tantrums. Thankfully these are not the sort of tantrums most seven year olds throw, that would be horrifying. I cut. I cut. I cut some more (two different cuts, three separate times). I burned. And the pièce de résistance yesterday was when I attempted to break my arm (dropped my heavy coffee table on it three -four?- times. Fail. Pretty sure it's in tact, but it's painful at least as I got some great bruises from it).

None of it helped though, in the long run. None of it was enough. I still want to do something, something to myself (I can't over dose either, because my Uncles funeral is this weekend... but that keeps going through my head as well). I'm not sure why when I am not upset at something I did but rather something that was 'done' to me. And anyway it's stupid because there has got to be some sort of reason I haven't been contacted in over two weeks. The problem is that the logical part of my brain cannot get together with the rest of me, whatever that is (I usually reference the difference between head knowledge and heart knowledge which is my way of referring to the logical portion of myself and the feeling portion (I guess, I'm not exactly sure what the heart bit is but I'm 99% sure it's feeling)). And the 'rest of me', the feeling part is throwing a bit of a tantrum.

It's just too bad I'm not able to satisfy it.

Random (or not so random), Rambling Ruminations

Really, don't bother reading this one. It's just full of shit anyway. But if you want to, go ahead; watch me devolve...
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Ugh, I don't want to cry.Lord, it would be wonderful to just lay down and sob.Speaking of 'just laying down and doing something' how about just laying down and dying?That sounds like a good idea.>.< I could burn, it feels like it requires burning.No, I'm trying to limit my self harm.Well who gives a rats ass anyway?No one that I can come up with right now.And why does no one give a rats ass?Why was I suddenly dropped in spite of the fact that I was told several times that it would not happen? Probably my own damn fault.It usually is.Something I didn't do?That's probably it.After all, I'm an adult for crying out loud, I need to take responsibility for my life and such things.There's that paperwork I didn't get in.I sort of thought that after I heard from that guy in Y- that the stuff the gal in my local office gave me wasn't important any more.It's not like it hasn't been two-three weeks since she gave it to me.She hasn't called.That should mean it's no big deal, right?Except that you're supposed to be an adult, dumb ass, so it's your responsibility.I could cut.No, really, cutting won't do it this time, it really feels like a time to burn.And why shouldn't I, when no one cares enough to bother with me?Oh how wonderfully pathetic you sound, and so very borderline.Maybe I should clear out the bottom of the linen closet and squish myself in there; maybe that would help.God in heaven, I'd like to cry right now.Sure fire way to achieve that, just think about Uncle and the last thing you said to him(he was dead though so does that really count?).Oh, that does it.But heaven forbid you allow the tears to fall.Lord what have you done that you can't hardly cry anymore?Why did you ever think that would be a good thing?Answer:I didn't know I was ruining my ability to cry forever.I guess it goes hand in hand with the stunted displays of emotions I seem to show...whatever I'm trying to say;I can't put it in to words but I know what I mean.Geez, look at that picture.How did I ever smile like that?How do I still manage to smile like that, despite feeling like shit 99% of the time?And what is more, how in the world do people not see right through it?*shakes head*I just want to stop existing, that's all.At the very least I want to cease being aware.Does that make sense?If I knew of a way to do that I'd be all over it, let me tell you.I'd just like to shut down my mind.Put it in sleep mode.Ah to sleep forever; to cease awareness.Hmm, I could over dose.*shakes head*I'm not sure I want to do something like that.I just want to stop.To turn off.To tune out.I don't want to distract from one thing with another.I just want to be.To be blank.To be nothing, save maybe 'here'.I'm probably not making sense but again I know what I mean.Geez I want to cry.I want to cry and then I want to stop.Deep sleep mode.I want to sleep and never wake up.It's not like I want to die, exactly; I just want to stop.Unfortunately dying seems to be the only way to do that.Thinking I need to work more on dissociation, heh.'To die, to sleep, to sleep, per chance to dream, no more';I've not written it correctly but this way serves my purposes better anyway.Well who gives a rats ass anyway...
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It's amazing, I could go on... but I won't, at least, not here. In my head it will continue. FML. Job 3:20-26 This passage is not the one we are supposed to focus on, in Job. But here Job and I are in agreement. Here, we understand each other.

Call if you need to talk...

Now why in the world would I do that? I mean really, what is there to talk about? And what could you possibly do to help? My Uncle is dead; he shouldn't be. I feel Awful; same old same old really, just add a dead Uncle in to the mix this time (and a grandmother in the hospital, just recently officially diagnosed with the dementia we all knew she was suffering from). *shrug* I don't have any real idea about what is going on; well, you can't do much about that really. I could make a phone call or two, that would probably help. But if they've dropped me, if they're done with me, if I've once again slipped off the radar then why should I bother them?

No, calling you would not do either of us any good. You don't really want to hear me bitch and moan and as much as I like to help and to listen, if you have something you need to unburden then, well I am really in no shape to oblige right now, I'm sorry.

I Don't Want to Celebrate

My Uncles funeral is in a week. My Auntie told my mom that it is goring to be a celebration and not so much a funeral. After there will be a luau (that's what is taking so long... the funeral will be held two weeks after his death because Hawaiians cannot decide on one pig or two ;) Add a howley (a white individual) or two in the mix and chaos reigns, heh). Wonderful pig aside (Kalua pig... mmmmm, amazing)... I don't want to celebrate. My Uncle is dead and he shouldn't be. We all knew it was a possibility. Some of us more than others (that feeling you get sometimes, you know... I was pretty certain he was going to die... trying to hope that I would be wrong). So you can keep the damn pig and just give me my Uncle back.

I can't even cut today. I've got a great one just waiting to be messed with and I can't. Which sucks because I feel like I want to do something... to hurt... something bad to myself. I know how it sounds, I really do. But that's just how it is right now. Cut, over dose (no more Tylenol though, thanks), burn (no, I very rarely burn and now is just not feeling like that sort of time), beat my head against the wall until I'm senseless (that one sounds best actually because it combines pain and unawareness). But I can't. None of it would be enough (sans the senseless bit). I can't cut enough, not with only two hands and one razor blade. Over dosing won't do it, I very rarely feel any effect from it (at least that's how it was when I did it most). I couldn't burn enough... yes, the head banging seems to be preferable but I cannot guarantee that I could do it enough, hard enough, that I would black out. And that's really what I want. The unawareness.

I don't want to celebrate. I don't even want to exist right now; not in consciousness anyway. How lame is it that I have to? Because I don't. I could figure out some way to find my peace among the blackness of unconsciousness. Except I cannot.

I cannot even do that.

I Watched Myself Bleed *Possible Trigger... slightly Graphic*

Just now. It was a cut I started last night. It's actually over an old scar. And old scar over a vein that bleeds well when nicked. Actually last time it bleed too well and I had to get it stitched. But tonight it seems under control.

So why did I intentionally cut so that I could nick a vein? Mmm, I'm not going to get too introspective on that one. Mostly because I already have and the answer... way too borderline for this Reluctant Borderline. So we'll just leave it at that. I cut, I nicked a vein, and I watched it bleed. And the small part of me that is still open to feeling experienced both some sort of satisfaction from the various aspects of it all (watching it pool on my wrist, feeling it roll off my arm, watching it drip...). I think... it's hard to tell, sometimes... sometimes I believe that most 'feelings' I experience are actually just some sort of knowledge... *shakes head* it's hard to explain... anyway that they are not actual feelings... Anyway, another small part of me wanted to do more. Not to die (Lord, I couldn't do that to my family even before my Uncles funeral, for heaven sake!)... *shakes head* I'll not take that thought further.

Did you have to be one of them..?

Really. I mean, if you're going to drop me (your words, I believe, not mine) why not just do it? After all, I expected you to. That's just what people do. And it's not like you haven't done more than your fair share. Frankly you've done more than is required and I do appreciate it. However I think it might be making things worse now. You went to such lengths to let me know that I wasn't going to be left dangling in the wind again... and now here I find myself, adrift, bogged down, and (as much as I hate to say it) 'emotionally fragile' (ugh, I hate that phrase... but it works here so...).

Don't get me wrong, I understand. You have an actual job and some things (some people, I guess) can't always fit in when there are other things that need to be done. A tight budget and such doesn't help matters either.

But understanding doesn't always come with feeling alright about it, you know?

And I'm not gonna lie... it kinda sucks...




This post is very borderline, heh *shakes head* I don't normally allow myself to behave or talk like this... but the internet medium makes some things easier... even being unreasonable, lol