Confessions of a broken man
Broken and wore out. That’s just how I feel. Ashamed and guilty, too.
For a the better part of the last year there has been a dark cloud around me. One death of a loved one right after another, and other family and personal issues left and right.
More and more, I’ve had thoughts of suicide overwhelming my mind. I don’t think I really want to die. I just want to stop hurting all the time. While I don’t feel that I have the courage to actually pull the trigger or push the plunger on a syringe or act on a dozen other means that I’ve thought about, I don’t know for sure. Depression lies. It makes you think and behave in ways that you wouldn’t normally.
I stopped taking most of my heart medications thinking maybe my heart would just give out sooner rather than later. With all the stress and anxiety in my life right now, I’m sure something is bound to happen soon. I just don’t know how to deal with the pain that I feel all the time.
My diabetes management has fallen by the wayside as well. I’m not checking my blood sugars, nor have I been taking my victoza or insulins as I should. My A1C has been creeping up more and more over the last year. My latest was 8.5. Funny thing is my 6th diaversary was just a couple of days ago on December 29th. I usually celebrate it or at least acknowledge the day. Not this year. I have nothing to celebrate. Most of that day was spent thinking about having to send April back to California again. About my mother getting hurt moving things from the burnt house to the new one. About all that feels wrong in my world and how much I wish it would all just stop.
And I feel guilty for having the thoughts that I do. I know April would never forgive me if I did that. Neither would many others. Many wouldn’t understand it. Many would ask why I didn’t seek help. The problem is, I have sought help and it hasn’t done any good. I’ve spoken to my doctor. I have a bottle of pills for depression and anxiety. Another fucking bottle of pills added to the dozen I take already. I’ve had a bad history with those medications. And a side effect of the drug is suicidal ideation. I already have enough of that on my own. And I have had enough of people telling me to just suck it up and deal with it.
I just feel broken. Physically, mentally. I’m just broken. My heart doesn’t work like it should. Neither does my pancreas. I live in constant pain from old injuries to my back, legs, hips, and chest. Not to mention the migraines. It just hurts. If I were a horse, I’d have been led out behind a barn and shot in the head a long time ago.
The last six years have been so damn hard. I’m battle worn. My heart hurts. I’m tired of fighting all the time. Of worrying all the time. Of hurting.
I’ve sacrificed so much of my strength, energy, and determination to help others that I don’t have much left for myself right now. When I need it the most. I have a big heart. I give so much. And right now it feels like everything I do is merely a distraction; an excuse to not deal with my own problems. I hate feeling this way.
I’m sorry for rambling on. And I’m sorry for worrying everyone. I’ve been trying to write this post for a long time now and haven’t been able to get my thoughts out. I’ve been in hiding. I feel ashamed that things have gotten so far out of hand. I haven’t wanted folks to see just how fucked up things are in my little world. April is the only person who really knows, and she left for California worried that I won’t be here when she returns. I hate this.
Well, I guess the bandaid has been ripped off of this gaping wound. As much as it hurts to spew this word vomit all over this blog, getting these thoughts out of my head is for the best. And doing so now, in the final hours of 2014, means that I can begin 2015 by making a plan to get my shit together again and start moving forward. God help me.
Goodbye 2014. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.
I love you, Mike. I know I’ve been scarce, but I am here if you need me. And if 2014 doesn’t leave fast enough to suit you, I’ll give it an extra kick in the ass because it sure as hell sucked.
Just take it one day at a time, my friend. And if that seems insurmountable, call me & I’ll see if I can at least get us laughing through the next 15 minutes.
I love you too, Cheri. Thanks for being such a good friend. I do miss our chats.
i love you, brother. There is little I can say, and absolutely nothing I can do to change what you’re experiencing, except remind you that I am here–and a whole community is here–if there is any way we can be. I see though you facebook posts how often you sacrifice yourself to care for others, because of how much love you have in you, and as hard as it is, I hope you can find more ways to let others support you, too. <3 "People need other people."
And I know that in the midst of what you're facing it won't feel true, but it is absolutely true that you have and are making good things happen in your world: the fact that you're still here and that you've connected with so many people in so many ways through your story is evidence enough that YOU are important.
No one else can play your part, my friend: please get the support you need–for you.
Lots and lots of love coming your way as you kick off 2015, Mike. Let me (us!) know if you need a shoulder–even if a virtual one.
Lots of love to you as well, Kerri. Thanks for being a good friend.
Mike, I am so sorry that you are suffering and I hope that you can find your way out of the darkness as you move into 2015. Keep trying to get the help you need and don’t give up. You’re a special guy:-)
I can’t make this better. I wish I could, oh how I wish I could, but I can’t. I just don’t know you, your situation, or the people around you well enough to know that one magic thing to type to make your outlook change.
Fact is, there probably isn’t one magic thing to say that will make the pain go away. You’ll likely get tons of comments on this blog expressing care and compassion. And it’ll be the volume, not the content (so why am I writing this??), that will make a profound difference. We can tell you we care, but no acquaintance, friend, or professional therapist can tell you the answer. That comes from you.
And since you’ve written this, you’re well on your way. Writing a piece like this is therapeutic. It helps you to organize your thoughts and to structure them in a way that makes sense. And when things get confusing and overwhelming, you can turn back to it to help understand what’s going on. Then, maybe, you can try to make it better – one little piece at a time.
It’s amazing how just one thing can magnify into so much turmoil, because the worrying about the worrying can cause so much more worry than the thing itself. You mentioned yourself how worrried you get over your thoughts. If you can work on fixing one little piece, that will automatically fix the worry that comes with it, and you’ll have made a much bigger difference that expected. But now I’m trying to solve things, and I shouldn’t do that.
All the best to you, Mike. I hope this post is a result of hitting an emotional low and that it all gets better from here. Take care, my friend.
Thanks for your well wishes, Scott. I will admit, that while it was very hard to write this post, it was quite cathartic. I know things are not going to get over night. I have an incredibly long road ahead of me. Trying to open up about these issues seems like a good start.
First, big huge hugs.
Second, how can we help? What type of support do you want? (Which is sometimes different from the support you need. There is a difference. I hope you get both.)
You have an entire community who wants you to be healthy, to be happy, and to be thriving. It has been a very tough year for you. I want 2015 to be better for you. You’ve taken the first step by sharing this. We can help you take the next steps, but I know better than to preach/beg/cajole/placate. Tell us what you need to take the next steps… even if it means we carry you a little bit. That’s what we do as a community.
Much love to you, Mike. I do promise… we are here.
Honestly Christel, I really don’t know what to ask anyone to do for me. I know that I need someone to talk to about everything that’s going on. I really can’t afford a therapist and, frankly, don’t want to go down that road again. I can’t keep these emotions bottled up inside anymore and I agree with you that writing this post was a good first step in moving forward.
If nothing else, I would very much appreciate it if some of you who have reached out would check in with me every so often. I appreciate the love and support you’ve all shown.
Lots of love and hugs to you, my friend.
You don’t know be but I have followed your blog and posts. Funny thing is I went online because I felt the same as you. 2013 sucked for me. Deaths, tragedy, everything I knew changed. I started talking about it. Instead of hiding and smiling and saying I’m fine, I started saying this sucks I can’t do it anymore. And you know what? Things started to change. Everyday I got a little stronger. There were pitfalls along the way but I was determined to put one foot in front of the other. Even if I moved forward an inch than it was better than before. I stopped being so hard on myself and I started concentrating on myself even though it felt selfish to me. Pills don’t work for me but I have been seeing a therapist just talking helped a great deal. Like you said once I ripped off the band aid i started to improve. Im still working on it and it’s not all roses but it’s worth it. Find what works for you and keep going. We are all here cheering you on!! Anyway I hope this helps a little. You matter. You make a difference. Please never feel that you don’t.
First, *offers hugs and snuggly blankets*
Secondly, you’re right. Depression is a liar. It’s a devious deluder. It tells us that we are alone in this pain and that we must suffer alone. It poisons our every thought, seeping into even the most mundane brainwaves.
I can’t make it go away. I can’t take away all the grief. But I can tell you that you are not alone in any of this. There are people here who have walked through these fires and who know how much of a badass you are for still being here. All of us want to be here for you and help you. We want to cheer you on for all the victories and offer an ear (and whatever else we can) when the depression demon rages.
If you ever want to talk, or if there is anything in particular I can do, don’t hesitate to ask.
I’m hardly ever online anymore. I haven’t gone on Twitter in months. But something told me to log in tonight, and I saw this.
Part of me is going right to the biochemical and psychiatric facts regarding CHF, diabetes, and mental health because facts are comforting when things are scary. But the bigger part of me. The part that loves you like a brother is absolutely heartbroken that you’re feeling this way.
I know just how much you give of yourself to the people you care about because I’m blessed to be counted amongst them, but the only way you can do everything you want – and be who you want – for your loved ones is to take care of yourself first. No matter what anyone asks for, Mike, above anything else, all they want is for you to be around and be able to be a part of their lives.
You’re in my thoughts and in my prayers. I’m always here for anything you need.
Hang in there. You can do this.
My dear sister, I’m sorry to leave you feeling heartbroken. I’m sorry for leaving everyone feeling that way. Honestly, I could stand to chat with Nurse Ashley about those facts. Thank you for always being there.
Lots of love to you.
First: Big hugs, lots of them.
I know things of been difficult and I understand how very hard it is to lose the people we love, I really do.
It’s time to take some of the energy you’re giving to everyone else, and focus that energy on yourself. The fact that you shared how you’re feeling with us is an excellent first step – and I’m very proud of you.
Christel is right, we need to get you the support that you both want, and need -and your community is here to stand by you and carry you if needed.
I know that when I felt at my lowest, talk therapy really helped me.
Mike, start 2015 by taking care of yourself – so you can be there for the ones you love and who love you.
Sending lots of love and positive vibes your way.
Thank you, Kelly. Lots of love to you, my friend.
I hope you quickly find a route to brighter days.
Thank you, Sir Bob!
I really love Scott’s comment, and I wish I had something to offer as eloquent as what he’s already said. You are not alone, you have a community of people here to support you, and you are important to so many. Thank you for writing this, and being honest. Big hugs to you, Mike.
I have no words, except to echo what others have said. You have a profound impact on my life, and I’m glad to know you and be able to call you a friend. In some of my darkest moments, you’ve been there to help pull me through. I wish I knew what to say, more than just what’s in a blog comment, but know that you make a difference in this world that all of us in this community are lucky to be a part of. Anything you need, anytime. Sending all my hugs and wishes from Greenwood.
I don’t have a solution but as someone who has known the pain of depression, I wish you feelings of love Mike and just know there is a combo thing I do that’s sort of a cross between well wish and a prayer, and it has been sent your way. xo
Scott K. Johnson
Thanks for being brave enough to share these tough, inner thoughts and fears with us. It’s scary shit, and so hard to think about (yet seems to be all there is to think about). Weird how the dark cloud just dominates everything, isn’t it?
We love you and are here to help however we can.