Trapped inside this maze, all of the colors and the sounds that it makes, comes down like thunder and I don’t know how long that I…I don’t know how long that I. So I dream my dreams and sing my songs and I don’t fit in and I don’t belong, kinda hard to stand when you don’t feel tall…crash me down again.
I remember writing those lyrics on the back of a receipt. At the time, it sounded good and seemed to represent how I was feeling in that specific moment. All this time later, it represents how I feel 99% of the time. I have lost my balance to life, the emotional imprinted memories of a person that I used to be. I am on day 5 of Viibryd. There will not be a day 6 of this medication. In fact (because why not sound more insane) I am done with medication for now. I cannot sit still, I am restless, tingly, feel off balance, all kinds of issues with this medication. I kept pushing and trying to see if it would help. It did not.
I don’t know what would help me actually. Nothing short of a miracle I suppose. Well-wishers and spectators alike have come to know my meanderings well on this plane. I comb my mindscape looking for answers, a hint, something to go on…some reason to go on. I come up blank every single time. What is this all for? Who is it for? Take away the guilt trip of family and kids….then you can see the true operating reality, a 50 foot version of nothing but empty land and time spent looking to fill it. Dig a grave to fill it and repeat.
Issues, symptoms, illness real, illness manifested, anxiety, bi polar, depression. I wonder what more can be added on before we come to terms with pure lunacy and an inability to fit in any longer. I don’t think I want to fit in anymore. It looks nice. I remember it well when I could fit in. Nights in the gym, 60 pairs of jeans in alphabetic order, and running through women like a plague just taking them down. That was fitting on for me. I was part of something I thought there was a part to be a part of yea?
Met my wife and tossed that simple behavior away. I found happiness. Let me be blunt, if you are not married to the person you cannot wait to have sex with, you have nothing. I take that back. You can have a marriage that is normal, subpar Americana. You can be part of the running jokes of it’s ok to look and not touch, or the famous…we have been married for years and things change. I call bullshit! I have been married 9 years and we have been together 13 years and nothing has changed at all. It will change when you have kids I was told. We have two girls…..3 and 6….nothing changed. They made life even better. Never had a sitter never will…we are a team. When I read over the above I realize who would miss me. I watched them stop pumping epinephrine into my Dad. I watched him fade away. I saw the heart rate monitor stop. I was sad. I smiled and said well Pop, you didn’t die….you finally escpaped.
My Dad had enough. Killing oneself is, anyway, a misnomer. We don't kill ourselves. We are simply defeated by the long, hard struggle to stay alive. When somebody dies after a long illness, people are apt to say, with a note of approval, "He fought so hard." And they are inclined to think, about a suicide, that no fight was involved, that somebody simply gave up. This is quite wrong