Just Ramblin' On: Part Two- November 20, 2016

November 7, 2016

I put pressure on myself. I read about suicides about people from all walks of life. It is heartbreaking to me, but also comprehensible.

I believe I am opened about my illness and being an advocate to help others. I say to myself often. "T.J., if you kill yourself, your message would be lost." There would be no validity to my battle. Just a sad ending. Staying alive to continue fighting helps others. I am OK with the self-induced pressure. Not that I need a green light, but being open about my illness allows me to express myself, whether I am having a good day or bad day. Am I the face of Depression? No. But I am 'a' face of Depression. My transparency lets me share my story, bad or good.

November 9, 2016

I am terrified. Absolutely scared. After discussions, soul-searching, and realizations, I have found a new fear, rather, it has found me. The fear of growing old alone.

'Alone' is the re-occurring theme in my life. I am a very lonely man. For one, I know I have family and friend support. But no matter how many friends I talk to or how many times I talk to my family members, I still have the loneliness feeling.

I am lying next to my son. He's asleep. I should be too, but I am fucked. I just gave him a long kiss on the cheek. He does remind me of the good in my life. A part of me wants to wake him up to have a conversation. I look at him and my eyes begin to tear up. I have saddening thoughts and depressive feelings going through me as I watch him in peace. He fills the emptiness. He takes my attention away from the feelings. He breaths some hope into my existence. I am still. I am alone.

Thirdly, no one can ever love me. No one is going to allow me into their life and share it. Who in their right mind (not me, of course) is going to allow themselves to open up and love me? I am damaged goods with a lot of baggage. Maybe I am meant to be the lone wolf and go through life without a love. I can believe that. I can see that. I am not worth the risk.

"What risk do you mean T.J.?"

Risk number 1; finding me dead. That is as straight-forward as I can be. What if I act upon my suicidal thoughts one day and my girlfriend/wife/partner finds me dead? That kind of trauma can leave a lifetime full of pain. That's not the worst part. I say this now and I mean it; if I were to kill myself, it would be done in such a manner that my body will not be found. Talk of suicide is a 'touchy' subject only if we allow it to be. I am open and sincere; no one will find my body if I kill myself. Trust me.

Risk number 2: some event or argument or anything for that matter triggers me and sends me back to the hospital. Life events can cause my depression to get worse. What if my partner cheated on me? What if she fell out of love with me? What if...what if....and what if? I can write all night about the 'what ifs'. The future cannot be seen by anyone, therefore there are always 'what ifs' in every relationship. Don't be afraid of the 'what ifs' and focus on the potential possibilities.

Risk number 3: I become the emotionless, heartless, and fake bastard I was in my last relationship. I had no feelings. No emotion. Zero. I am improving myself not to allow that to happen anymore. I am doing good with it so far. Will I revert to my old ways? I don't think so. I also believe I will never put someone through that again.

I am not scared to give love a chance. I am just scared of growing old myself. I am not afraid to fail. I am not afraid to let myself open up. I am not afraid to be vulnerable. I am not afraid to be true to my feelings. I am not afraid to express my feelings. I am just afraid it all won't be enough.

"Is wanting to die different from not being scared of dying?"

November 13, 2016

Lately, my dreams have been very troubling. First, when I started my battle back, I didn't experience dreams I could remember. I just assumed it was a side effect of the medications. I took it in stride.

Getting to sleep was hard. Getting up was harder. Sleep was my temporary getaway from my demons or problems. I didn't have to deal with anything when I finally fell asleep. Somehow, it was peaceful. Somehow.

I have always had issues with remembering my dreams. Good ones. Bad ones. the next day I would try to recall them, but it was spotty at best.

Now my dreams are filled with depression and anxiety. I am not kidding. Some of my dreams have been terrorizing. I guess that is what a nightmare is. I have experienced nightmares before that would be scary. You know, like dreams where you are falling or dreams of monsters. These recent dreams are based on real-life events. Like daily happenings of everyday life. Depression dreams. Anxiety dreams. It's like I cannot escape it now.

The odd part is I can't seem to wake from these encounters. I have no idea if this is even possible from a scientific standpoint. If one of the only getaways I have from my illness is now being hijacked by the illness, where do I go from here?

November 18, 2016

On my road to recovery or to whatever I am trying to find in this world of mine, I have come to a realization. A quote I seen on Twitter made me think about something.

During my resurrection as a person, I have been trying to spread hope, inspiration, and happiness to others. Suggest that people be more grateful for the little things in life. Give in to your feelings more. Love naturally and don’t be hateful. Allow yourself to be vulnerable to let people in your life that can make it better. Believe in faith and trust, regardless of your past.

Now it’s time for me to stop being a hypocrite. It’s like a light bulb went off above my head. I am trying to suggest these ideas to other people to help improve their lives, I am missing telling one person; myself.

Yeah, I have been more gratuitous. I have been more mindful of other people’s feelings. I have tried to slow down my thoughts and think before speaking. I have allowed my feelings to come out organically. I do have faith in people. My problem is lowering my shield and letting people in.

Someone said to me the other day; “T.J., you don’t take compliments very well.” That person was right. I don’t.

I look into the mirror most days. I hate the reflection. The aspiration of the man I see looking back makes me sick. Why? Because I see the negatives and I magnify them. My biggest critic is myself. I don’t like anything I see, and I can see deeper than the skin.

Saying to me, “You’re not good enough” is no longer acceptable. It is too generic of a statement. 

What am I not good enough for? Everything.

Everything is a generic response, is it not?

How come I cannot take a compliment? I cannot find one thing good about me to compliment. It is sad. I don’t think anything about me is good. I have confessed all of my flaws in previous blogs. The alcohol. The women. The gambling. There is nothing to hide for me, but I am playing one huge game of hide-and-seek. It could be the longest game of hide-and-seek ever. I am the seeker and I am not even remotely close to finding anything or anyone.

I love magic. I know it isn’t real, though, I am impressed by the work and execution of the performer.

I consider my life one massive magic show, except this performer is not working and not executing. Continuously, messing up the trick. Back to the drawing board. Back to the very basics. How many steps backwards are required to take one step forward?

I spoke to my doctor today. He asked me if I feel different not having an ECT in two months. I told him lately, it is a rollercoaster. And like a rollercoaster, going down is the scariest. It’s like life. The rollercoaster doesn’t stop at the top, when things are good. As in life, it keeps moving. The only way to stop is to end the ride, hence, end my life.

Do I have daily thoughts of not being alive? I would be lying if I said no. It’s not so much suicidal ideas as, “You know what T.J., life would be better for others being dead.” A memory can last forever. I will not. Maybe I can sacrifice my life to increase mental illness awareness.

When the demons are pulling the strings inside, it takes everything else inside of me to fight. I verbally have to talk to myself. I am not crazy, but I do have to talk myself some sense from time to time. (Time to time is daily in my world)

"Life is never easy for those who dream"

                                        - Robert James Waller

Yours Truly,

T.J. Smith