Thursday, October 27, 2016

No exit

Halp! I can't make my blues go away. I need to do so much away from home. The car needs washing, I should have mailed mom a birthday card, but even if I sent the card now, she would not get it in time. Momo needs some liquidy cat food. He gags when I offer people food. I have a few cans left, but if he will like the juice is a toss up. And the cat food I barely has juice. The car needs gasoline. I need to check my mail, which I have not done in a week.
Why can't I make myself get dressed and go do these things?
Halp!

Sunday, October 23, 2016

This is me

I have considered killing myself. I even know how I would do it. You see, I am at times in such pain, that I would do anything to make the pain go away. I feel guilty about something most of the time. My cat is dying. I tried force feeding him and he tore into me and he won't take the syringe of food in his mouth. It ended up all over his fur, a blanket and me. I spent lots of money trying to figure out what was wrong with him, but there was not really a conclusion. He just won't eat. So, slowly, he is dying and I feel guilty that I can't save him.

Then my cousin tells me how she saved some kittens by giving them Ensure drop by drop for hours during the day. She saved the kittens. She also mentioned another cat she saved that lived five years longer. Rather than taking what she said as encouragement or just conversation, I took it as criticism in my efforts with my cat. The guilt of not being as good as she was made me feel like a bad person.

I isolate myself. I have been asked to go do things with friends, but at the last minute, I cannot make myself go. I tell them I cannot make myself go and then feel guilty that I have hurt their feelings. After being turned down numerous times, my friends quit asking. Then I feel unworthy and guilty that I treated them that way.

I wasn't always this way. I was shy, but I did go places and do things. I have always had the guilt, but the older I get, the more guilt I feel.

The guilt gives way to anxiety which becomes depression. I take medicine for the anxiety and the depression, but it does not always work.

I know we all have problems. Some of us cope better than others. To some, the problems are a bump in the road, to others they are a giant hole.

Mental health problems can be dealt with if there are enough professionals. I've tried two. Neither were right for me. I tried calling a psychologist. She laughed and told me it would be at least two years before she could work me in. TWO YEARS.

I apologize if I have shown you too much of myself. If you want to unfriended me, that is your right, and I cannot blame you.

In the meantime, I grasp at the threads that keep me from falling into the abyss.