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.