This is why Depression and other Mental Illnesses are so
hard to understand. This is what my mind is telling me to do; "T.J., you
can go into the bathroom, pull down the shower curtain rod. Once you get that
in your hand, wedge it is the door. Once in the door crack, bend it. It will be
sharp enough to stab yourself and kill you."
That's my thought at 7:41 pm on a Sunday night. Twenty
minutes ago I kissed my son goodnight. Sadly, there is potential it may be the
last one I ever give him.
What is wrong with me? I, or my thoughts, are devising a way
to kill myself. I look around my room. My creative devil is turning everything
into a self-inflicting weapon. I see another way how to kill myself. Dark
thoughts. Dark thoughts that are coming out on this very page because if they
stay inside of me, they will convince me to do something stupid.
Nothing triggered these thoughts. Just came about. Out of
nowhere. No warning. Unforgiving darkness.
My mind races. My stomach aches. My heart pounds. My
thoughts damaging. My feelings unstable. If I was not in the hospital tonight,
something tragic may happen. I can't get the idea of killing myself out
of my head.
No self-esteem. There is confidence. Confidence I could end
my life tonight. Here is my goal; see my 30th Birthday. It is in a month. Will
I be alive in a month? No idea. Saddening goal to say the least. It will be a
struggle for me to get there.
I can't close my eyes. My mind is being over-ran by demons.
"How high is the hospital? I mean, if I jump, will I die?"
Shortness of breath. Anxiety. Anxious to kill myself. Am I
crazy? It's nights like these that lead me to believe that. I can't get the
troubling thoughts out of my head. Sure, I can talk to someone. But they can't
quiet these monsters. The glass is not half full. It isn't half empty. I could
break the glass and use the sharp edge to kill myself. Slit my wrist. End the
torture. They can study my brain. I would become a modified science experiment.
Scientists could examine my brain to help cure Mental Illnesses. I am in agony.
My thoughts are being raided by the Devil and his demons. No one healthy can
understand this pain. I want to end it all tonight.
Why is this happening? Maybe it could be where we are
switching medications. Doctor said there could be a couple bad nights. This is
the worst yet.
Trying to have happy thoughts. That's a huge fail. I don't
even know what they would be or look like. In my life, I have had more suicidal
thoughts than happy feelings. It's a blowout. The score isn't even close. With
no comeback in sight.
If someone looked into my eyes tonight, they would see the
Devil. Helplessness is one of the worst feelings. I can't call or talk to
anyone. No one can help with this. I keep drafting up suicide notes in my head.
I wish the voices would silent. I am taking a mental beating tonight. I hope I
survive. As much as I want to die, I hope I survive.
In my hell tonight, I do not see fire or brimstone. There is
no heat. All I see is me. Me, extracting blood from my body. Dying, slowly.
There is no more pain. As the blood exits my body, it takes the pain with it.
The wounds transport the pain out of my soul. If I survive, only scars will be
left. Visual, figurative, and literal scars.
No one is here with me. The monsters and demons with have
everyone frighten off. No one will come near me. I don't blame them. They could
get sucked into the abyss with me. My mind is ravaging my thoughts and
feelings. "Please leave me alone", I beg. "Not tonight T.J.. Not
tonight", is the reply.
The mind can only handle so much. My body is strong. I wish
the pain was physical. I could deal with that. Mentally weakening. Profound
feelings involving Death. Compelled to take action. Distraught and disturbed.
Beaten down and stepped on. This is a nightmare. I am not sure how many of
these nightmare episodes I can take. Time will uncover the truth. The truth is
just.
The following poem describes my night;
I look in the mirror and what do I see?
No facial expressions. Just a blur
A structure of a man that has no Life
There is no soul. It is vacant
Controlled by tiny Sinners.
There is no fight back. No one to resist the urge
Ability to think and feel is omitted
Hijacking my mind and all that it holds
Separating me from reality
The feeling is lifeless and cold.
Shivers down my back and into my spine.
Damaging thoughts produce giant scars
There is no time to heal.
A wonderful night to lose this fight
Falling back with no one around
Tricks of the mind are powerful
I am losing hope and struggling to cope
All hope is lost. All that is lost is hope
Nothing more, nothing less
The Kiss Of Death
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