Life, of sorts

I'm snowed under a mountain of paper work. Now I am to fill forms to claim S' superannuation Death Benefit Payout. 

It is a shit load of money, true, I need it and it may solve some problems for me. 

However, I'm claiming it to give it to his son when the kid (he was never allowed  to even speak to, let alone see) comes of age.

When S died he didn't know he left a Will and he certainly didn't know about the possibility of such a big payout. On his final letter he left everything to me to do as I saw fit. 

The Will was drafted many years before we met, he had forgotten because of all the ECT he had had fried his brain, his memory was terrible, he couldn't recall many parts of his life and the short term memory was appalling, I always had to check he turned the cooker off, many burnt pots & pans and smoke alarms triggered when I wasn't around. 

The Will is a legal document, the final letter isn't. There is a strong chance the money will go to The Mother of the Kid, that would be an insult to S' memory, she was horrible to him, and although the kid would benefit from that money still, I don't want her to have it. 

I want to get as much as I can and put it on a trust fund and when the kid is old enough He can learn his father loved him, he wanted to be part of his life, he sent him presents every bday and Xmas, he provided for him, I want the kid to know what a wonderful, gentle, caring, generous and loving his dad was. He never abandoned him. 

As for me, well, I don't know how much longer I will be around but I am fighting for what is right. That's my motivation for the time being. 

I'm utterly broken with grief, my health is deteriorating to a pace I had no idea it was possible but I'm doing all I can, I'm doing my best. 

Today

Warning - very honest and explicit talk of suicide.

I don't know which stupid stage of grief I have reached now, I think I am experiencing all of them at once and not in any particular nor defined order, denial is probably the only one is over.
I knew he was going to do it.
I knew he was going to kill himself, and the way in which he chose to do it. I was just not expecting it at that particular time. I suspected nothing that afternoon when we exchanged text messages. I feel stupid because his last message was "I will be OK. X" and I didn't understand his meaning. 
Do I feel responsible?  -  No
Do I feel guilty? - Maybe, although I know it is not my fault and I could have done nothing to prevent him from ultimately killing himself at some point, perhaps I could have stopped him that particular night. He had made up his mind and he was ready to go. But I knew, I knew, and yet I could do nothing about it.
That is why I believe he didn't reach out, because he knew I would talk him out of it for that day but then what?
Writing these words is so incredibly painful, I'm in tears, sobbing, howling, hyperventilating, having to stop constantly to wipe my eyes, walk around the room in circles, and as Edenland put it, as if going through labour, grief labour.

Everything hurts, nothing makes sense.
Simon was such a lovely man, sweet, intelligent, talented, handsome, wonderful but he could not see it. He couldn't feel comfortable in his own skin for a long time, it was not only depression and anxiety issues, it was also the chronic pain for which he never got proper diagnosis nor adequate treatment, he was tormented by not being able to see his son, he saw himself as a failure for not having all those things society uses as markers of success for "real men" i.e. having a massive mortgage for a house, owning a house, having stable employment, having a family, being always healthy and naturally not having a mental health problem. What bullshit!
He always felt as if his family resented him for being ill, I always thought that was just his perception but recently I heard one member of his family say it was a relief they didn't have to worry about him anymore - oh great fuck! I wanted to die when I heard that, perhaps it wasn't meant to sound so fucking horrible but it does suck to know that is the way they feel.
They didn't even buy an urn to keep his remains, he is still in that horrible 'standard issue' plastic box from the Health Authority. I know they are being practical because we will scatter his ashes in the sea very soon but for fuck's sake, they could have at least got him a cheap wooden box, something a little more dignified, he deserved better.

This grief is so deep, this pain is too much.

The past 2 weeks I've been away for medical appointments, on top of the devastating loss and the possibility of me becoming homeless, now I have to deal with the fact I may have a brain tumour, and just to make things just that little bit more shit, the pain specialist I just saw thinks my pain is not a rheumatological issue but a neurological condition, she is having me see a neurologist and entertaining the chance of MND (Motor Neuron Disease), MS, or some other neuro-degenerative illness.
Fuck, I've hit the fucking jackpot!
It is great to finally find a Dr who is not treating me like a fucking nutcase but fuck me, can I not just have a little bit of good luck for once?

I am sad and angry and broken and confused and scared and lonely and fucking pissed off and disappointed by life, I feel let down and abandoned and hard done by. I am forlorn, devastated, desolate, bereft.

I miss him, my body misses him, I am angry at my body for continuing to function, I am getting all this pent up sexual energy and I cannot even masturbate because it makes me cry, it feels like cheating on him, but he is gone, dead, never coming back!

Why, why, why? I walk around in circles most of the night howling, asking why, talking to him, to god, to anyone and no one, it's all the same, there's no answer, only silence and my sobs and this endless pain.

There are all these images that pass through my head, disturbing images, perhaps too morbid for some but I keep seeing them. I see him being very upset, getting in the car and driving to the bush (to the place he told me he had found but never told me where it was), drinking too much, crying, fighting with the world, climbing that tree, sitting on the chosen branch for a while and very meticulously and in a quasi reverential way slipping the noose on his beautiful neck, arguing with himself a lot more, justifying his decision and finally jumping off the tree. Only 3 minutes to die. I hope he was unconscious after minute 1. The saddest part is what comes next, he is there, alone, exposed to the animals and the elements for a week, no one was there to hold him and take him down sooner. I was not allowed to see his body, I know exactly what he was wearing. I hope he had a second to think of me and how much I loved him. I hope he felt loved by me to his last moment.

I know he had been practicing and perfecting the technique for years, there was nothing I could have done! and yet I wish things were different, I wish I could have been there to tell him I love him so much. I wish I could have done something.

There will always be a gap in my heart now. I really want to be with him.

Back home

After four long, lonely, strange and tedious weeks in hospital I'm back home for a few days before heading to the big smoke for specialists appointments. 

I had some very bad encounters with my treating Psych who dared to tell me I was only Sim's carer and our relationship had no future, I refuted her assumption and she said 'oh ok. Maybe I was wrong' - Maybe???? Fucking hell yes you were wrong madam! 

When I made a complaint about this to the nursing staff she denied 'ever saying anything about her partner' and that resulted in needing to have a nurse chaperoning every single consult we had after that, which suited me fine as it meant she wasn't purposely cruel to me anymore. She also told the nurses if I told them again I wasn't feeling safe she would organise for me to be scheduled in the public hospital - thank goodness Sister R told me this in time, so for the last 2 weeks I had to muster all my energy in pretending to be ok, I did it so well a lot of visitors thought I was working there and never would have picked me for a patient. 

I will never see that horrible psych again, even if I need another admission there I will ask for a different dr, simply because I don't trust her and without trust there cannot be a therapeutic relationship. 

Why do specialists have such a big problem when another human talks to them as their equal?

She really is stuck in a power trip. Good luck to her patients. Worse part is, I wasn't the only patient being treated poorly by her, 2 other ladies had equally bad experiences with her and the nurses knew it so they were supportive of me but there wasn't much they could do but listen to my grievances and try to come up with solutions that could work out for me without jeopardising their jobs. I shall forever be grateful to them. 

For the first time my chronic pain got addressed, I got referred to a pain specialist and will be starting a pain management program in a few weeks. I have a new approach to treating the pain and even if the reason for my admission was the chronic insomnia (which wasn't resolved), I still gained the chance to try something new to lessen the pain.

It was very sad to hear the Pain Dr tell me the pain will never go away, it cannot be cured and it will progressively get worse and it will be disabling to the point I won't be able to be independent. I was really hoping against all hope that she could say 'yes, we can cure it' but I guess is better to know where I stand, at least now I'm getting better help managing it. 

Weird side effects to gabapentin I developed: severe stuttering, expressive aphasia, urinary hesitancy, urinary frequency&urgency, haematuria, pharyngitis, increased tremor and last but not least tonic seizures and muscle fasciculations. Oh and my affect is flat. I know rationally what emotions I would be feeling but I cannot actually feel anything, I'm so very numb and detached. 

Strange to hear people's commenting on me 'looking so much better' I guess it's easier and less uncomfortable for them to see me faking a smile than to see me crying and utterly miserable out of the sorrow and grief of losing my beloved Simon. 

Being back home has been ok but it has reopened the doors to the grief, sorrow, pain, loneliness, good&bad memories, longing for him, missing him terribly it actually hurts physically. 

I feel very hurt also by his family, they don't contact me anymore, they don't need me now that he is gone, that makes me very sad. They said I had their help & support for as long as I needed it but I got told 2 weeks ago I have until February, then their help will end. I'm grateful for all they've helped and I never expected them to help really, they had no obligation. They never saw me as Simon's partner, they only saw me as his friend and his carer. 

They know nothing of the love we shared, I guess it's not important to them anymore. Perhaps I'm a painful remainder of Simon's death to them now. I don't know, I cannot read their minds. 

Just an acknowledgement of our relationship would be nice. For me. 

Fuck the money. I want nothing but to be with him and that is the very thing I will never have again. 

Everyone keeps saying 'do things in your own time, only when you're ready' but at the same time I'm being given a deadline by his family, & by the landlord, I will have to move out of our home soon but haven't been given a specific date, so, in reality I don't have much time and I know I'm not ready but I guess that's my problem and mine alone. 

Don't say things you don't mean. 

In the end I know the truth, he loved me and I love him forever, no matter what. He was my comfort, my friend, my perfect lover and I was his and by his side until the end and I'm certain he knew how much I loved him. 

Fuck the rest. They can sing high mass if they like. 

They had him during his happy times but HE HAD ME DURING THE BAD TIMES AND I WAS HIS UNTIL THE END. 

I love you Simon. May you rest in peace. 

Update

I'm back in hospital. I was terribly and still am terribly depressed but I'm safe and taking my treatment. Will write at large soon. 

Struggle

It is very hard just to stay alive at the moment, the thoughts, the temptation, the desire to end it all are so overwhelmingly strong. 

My head is full of noise, I cannot sleep, my body is exhausted, there's no rest, no respite. I haven't been able to eat for weeks and now even liquid is hard to keep down. 

I feel like I have reached the end of my strength, I am broken, empty, I have no more to give to this struggle. 

I'm tired of fighting, I just want to lay down and die, just drop on the floor and will my body to stop breathing, convince my soul to leave my body and go back to the eternal light where Simon is waiting for me. 

I have nothing left. 

Stop all the clocks

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone

W. H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

My beautiful Simon

I am bereft, heartbroken, destroyed. 

My love is dead. My beautiful man decided to end his suffering and go back to the loving kindness of the universe. I know his pain has ended. He lived a rich, full, complicated life, I know he enjoyed many happy moments and he fulfilled his dream of being a great helicopter pilot. 

There was much adversity on his life and much sadness and loneliness but he enjoyed a blessed childhood, a loving family, and he was loved beyond limits by myself and others. 

He conducted himself with honesty and dignity, he fought his pains and his demons with such courage and grace until the end. He was a true gentleman. 

I shall forever miss his love, his smile, his beautiful eyes. 

He was the one who truly knew me and accepted the deeply flawed person that I am without conditions or reservations. 

I know he loved me. 

Farewell my love until we meet again. 

Xxxxxx

Update

I haven't been blogging for a while, I was in precarious position in my head, soul and living arrangements but now the panorama is different. 

I'm feeling better in myself, house troubles are not so and other than my stupid chronic pain / autoimmune disorder everything is kind of OK. 

Every week I have a meeting with a 'helper/mentor' as part of my 'strategy for recovery' and somehow we ended talking about defining moments, I thought about () and where and what their life is like, does () ever think about me? What about ()? I think of so many people who I loved deeply and for their own reasons are not close to me any more. 

My life does read like one of grief and loss but I guess every life will be touched by them at one time or another, it just feels like mine is a double concentrate. 

Everything is OK for now. 

Start over

Once again I am taking medication to treat my annoying melancholic depression, I wish I could be ok without it but I am not, I feel horrible all the time, beyond sadness, I feel hopeless, helpless, unworthy, hideous, guilty, anxious and pretty much a waste of time, space and resources. 

So I guess the best is to try to help my mind get a bit quiet. 

I was told a while ago that for my condition it was expected to get worse, I thought they were trying to scare me into taking the meds without question, I mean there are lots of people out there who get better, right? Is there no hope for me?

Having an incompetent doctor doesn't help either, dr wasn't even capable of asking real questions about how I feel, and was clearly uncomfortable, beating around the bush and saying 'you've had black thoughts in the past?' I saw her flinch when I said yes I had attempted suicide before. The conversation turned to 'what do you want to take?' I need her to be the dr to take care and make a decision, I can't prescribe things or treat myself, that's stupid. Don't know, may be I'm needing a stay in the kennel again. 

I'm not plotting and planning, I just simply want to stop feeling so shit, I just want to sleep forever. 

birthdays

I still remember the time when having a birthday was exciting and a happy sort of occasion. In the past three weeks I have celebrated five people close to me but none of them seemed excited nor happy about their anniversary.
My little niece just turned one and I've seen pics of her 'party', she has very sad eyes, that just breaks my heart.
In a few weeks I will be having my own birthday and it does not feel exciting or happy either, it hasn't for many years now but every year, perhaps foolishly, I try to make an effort to enjoy whatever celebration I can treat myself to, this year perhaps won't be much more than making something nice to eat for myself, by myself.
I really wish [] would come back, just to talk, just to get a reason of why he left like that. I really wish I was over it, I wish I could have some peace in my heart and mind, I wish I could understand.
Whatever...

Have been working with a 'mentor' I've been assigned for a few months now, fuck me I have been 'assigned' a mentor to "help improve life skills and help to integrate to the community". My mentor D is a real nice chap, we have good talks, I just find it a bit hard to integrate to a community that has for the most part rejected me for having bipolar.
I have lost everything to the fucking mental illness, my job, my home, my friends, everything, even my ability to function, I am now exiled to a little town that seemed to be a very good solution to the main problem I was having - an abusive neighbour who was making my life hell and putting my life and health at risk.
So I took the decision to uproot myself from home and leave behind the few remaining friends I had, hoping that the change would help me feel better, get well, make new friends, get a job but so far it has only made me feel isolated and now with the appointment of my mentor I feel defeated in a way.

Perhaps I made the biggest mistake of my life in trying to do what was right by {}. I know it will never be acknowledged, but it would be nice to hear that {} knows how much I've lost to help when everyone else had turned their backs, when that case had been written off by everyone, I was the only one offering help, providing friendship and refuge and it has cost me dearly.
And no I don't believe in Karma, all I've done was because it was the right thing to do not because of hope for a reward nor for fear of retribution.
Karma, like heaven and hell doesn't exist, I know because I've been through horrible experiences and yet I have never done anything to deserve them.

In the end I am just right back at where I started this blog, I still don't know why but I just want to die.

Today

Today I read a blog by hyperbole and a half about depression, it most definitely expressed the reality of it in such an articulate and sophisticated manner, I wish I could write like that. 

My life has just been so stressful, I really need to catch a break. 

I haven't had a day without pain for the past 2 years! 

Moving away from Sydney to a small coastal town seemed like the best idea a year ago, I really thought things would improve, yet so far it has gone the opposite way. 

I used to be fun and productive and energetic and creative and healthy, that is what I miss the most - being healthy, being well. 

Today someone reached out to me and I hope I can be of assistance to her. I related the incident to () and all I got was a baffled/exasperated look and a 'why would you want to do anything?, that's just stupid' response to my saying I would like to help. 

That's the message I'm getting from () of late - it's stupid, I'm stupid. It hurts because I would never call the one I love nor my friends stupid. I'm not talking about breaking the law, or putting myself at risk or harming me or anyone when I say I want to help the person who rang in desperation, why would it be 'stupid' to help someone in need? 

I know () is projecting a lot of shit on me, everything () experiences is through a filter of despair and depression, I know what that is like but that is no excuse to hurt the one you love, your partner, a friend or anyone for that matter. 

It is time to find a place for me to be me and give myself the chance to be free from constant judgement. 

So how about you stick your judgement up your arse and fuck right off! And I say this in the friendliest way and with utmost  respect. 

I'm slipping again into that deep, dark, lonely, fucked up hole called depression.
I cry for no reason, cry when peeling a mandarine, cry when looking out the window, cry when walking, cry every meal time.
I find myself feeling utterly lost, feeling inadequate, I feel guilty for not being able to get over it, feel pathetic for having a broken heart since 2007, yes I am inlove now but it's only more confusing. It feels so wrong to be wondering what happened instead of just enjoying our love, I guess I'm terrified it will happen again because I might make the same mistake and he will leave me. I'm ashamed of this feeling and I can't tell S because he won't understand. I don't want to hurt him, things have been so hard of late I don't want to make them worse.
Why can't I move on? Why is it impossible for me to function like anyone else?
I am lonely and isolated and it doesn't help that I am socially awkward and extremely anxious.
Have tried all the treatments from medication to meditation to mild brain stimulation, acupuncture, CBT, DBT, hospital admissions, self-help books and support groups.
My brain is broken, my heart is broken and now my soul is breaking.
I am broken.

Pain

After countless medical tests and trials on several medications with horrible side effects, the conclusion is 'we don't know'.
I'm very tired to hear 'you're too young to take these meds' 'you shouldn't have pain' - Well, fact is I do have pain, constant, debilitating, stupid pain, and as to my age, am I supposed to just put up with the pain and wait until 20 more years pass before I am 'eligible' for adequate pain relief?
I'm tired because I don't sleep, the pain wakes me up, can't find a comfortable spot for long enough so I get rest.
I'm tired because people don't believe I am in pain just cause they can't see it.
I'm tired of life being so painful.
Pain is so terribly isolating, I am alone and the stupid pain is so obtrusive, it interferes with every single aspect of my life.
I'm tired of trying so hard everyday and all for what?
Nothing's getting better

Old news

Here I am again, same old story, chronic pain is there although I did try a new med for it which seemed so promising except all I got was the very bad side effects so I had to can it and I'm now back to the beginning.
Same old shit from the dr: 'oh but you're so young, we should only be giving you these meds when you're very old'
What are the chances of me getting old? Not many, as to the chances for me becoming very old - zip.
I wish I could invent a machine that could make me feel less detached. I can't feel anything.
I know rationally I 'love' my family and friends but I just don't feel it.
I thought my latest attempt at taking antidepressants would help but a year later and a rather serious case of SSRI toxicity I am yet again not medicated for my stupid melancholic depression.
How I make it day after day is beyond me. This isn't life, it's not dignified, it's not even acceptable, and yet it is, sadly, my reality.
Mother said all I need is {_}, no mother dearest, what I need is my brain to work properly and produce enough neurochemicals to keep me well.

My pain is so bad I can't even cry.

Rain

The rain started again yesterday (friday) and it hasn't stopped, it might not stop until Thursday. It really is getting ridiculous.
The worst of it is that the damp makes my joints and bones very painful and I get very wheezy.
I'm tired of chronic illness, chronic pain, melancholy, insomnia.
It is rather baffling that my own body is attacking itself.

musings

TRIGGER WARNING: what I've written may upset or distress readers. 

So, suicide.
I know, it seems like a horrible, unmentionable topic except it isn't. Suicide is merely death by one's own hand and death is a fact of life. Most people seem to be very afraid of death and dying and particularly afraid of talking about it.
Yes I often think about death, dying, suicide, about my own mortality and that of those I love and love me. I have tried to end my own life and failed (obviously).
Having tried and thought about suicide so much has made me understand that when it happens there is no fault, no guilt, no reason to be found, it cannot be explained by those who are left behind, it is distressing, unbearably sad and so painful.
It is also true that when all you can do is to try to end your life you feel so alone and there is nothing else around you, everything seems dark and you just want the agony to end so if your attempt failed you feel extremely shit, to the point of not reporting it to a dr or a friend so you get to feel even more alone.
I do not believe every depressed person thinks about suicide, perhaps they have a 'mortal wish' i.e. they wish they were dead but not necessarily make plans or think about acting upon it. That desire to be dead cannot be told so easily to others because most people think suicidal ideation and mortal wish are the same when in fact they are very different, however one can easily end up committed in a Psychiatric ward for saying 'I wish I was dead' so no wonder many with mental illness do not disclose their deepest angst and thoughts so easily.
Depression makes you very irritable and I think this combined with fear of being judged by others who do not understand what you feel makes many of us withdraw even more, so in effect even more alone and therefore we don't talk about 'it'.
People who are healthy and have never had depression find all this very hard to understand and often don't know what to say in which case is better not to say anything and only ask if you really want to hear the answer, make time and brace yourself, it may not be as bad a chat as you feared or it may be just about the most confronting talk of your life, only offer help if you are willing to help and never out of duty, there are professionals who can help you sort out what kind of help you can be and please for the love of universe do not say: 'you're not doing so bad, there're people out there who have it worse, think of Africa' that certainly doesn't help.