June 13, 2016
Disclaimer: SickNotWeak does not provide medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. This content contains explicit and sensitive information that may not be suitable for all ages.
Hey there, how’s it going today? Good I hope. I know some days are going to be better than others. Congratulations on making it here, sometimes it’s the hardest thing just to get out of bed, so thanks for showing up, I know it couldn’t have been easy. I too am sick, and it’s hard not let it define me. I have multiple degrees, I teach, I coach, and I know my personality and accomplishments leave me to be a role model for others to look up to, which is really hard when you feel incredibly unworthy of the recognition and adulation.
I have Bipolar II disorder, which means that more often than not I am depressed, suffer from major depressive episodes, and have more frequent suicidal thoughts. But you could have read all that on the Wiki. What is it like for me? TERRIFYING.
I have a limited allotment of good days.
Somewhere in my mind I have convinced myself, likely from adolescence, that I have a limited allotment of good days. I have become accustomed to the pain of everyday existence, that good days are the scariest thing I know. It’s like the worst roller coaster ever. You get high up, knowing the whole way that the deep valley is coming next.
Yesterday was a good day. I had a productive day, I made an impact, I could feel my energy come up and I could feel my smile. I didn’t feel at all like I deserved to have a good day, it was surprising, and I knew, I just knew that today couldn’t be a good day. I’d used my good day. It’s impossible for me to just sit back and enjoy it. When I finally settle down to try and sleep my mind keeps me awake with all the things that will change tomorrow. I will go back to being in pain, I will not be worthy of the love and affection people show me. I will go back to being the unlovable creature I am accustomed to being.
So this morning I woke up, anxious and terrified of today. I debated calling in sick and staying in bed, but I, like you, forced myself out of bed (made the bed), and set about bearing the pain. It is what I do, it is what I have done since about ninth grade.
I wonder if I drag everyone around me down.
I wonder if I would be better off putting a bullet in my head. I haven’t, clearly. I wonder if maybe one in the chest would be better because then my brain could still be used for research and hopefully help others after I’m gone. I wonder if I drag everyone around me down, keep them from accomplishing everything they possibly could because they are concerned about me. That maybe, just maybe they would be better off without me. I wonder if overdosing would damage my brain and thus invalidate my leaving it to science.
I dodge my family because it is easier than facing the conflict between people that I KNOW unconditionally love me and the idea that I don’t deserve that love, attention and affection, that I haven’t done anything to earn it.
I cut out my friends because I don’t need to hear platitudes like, “Be patient with yourself,” “It’s ok to cry sometimes,” “Everyone feels sad,” or some other bull. What I feel that I really need is a hug, and permission to quit. Someone to say, “You’ve done enough, it’s okay to let go now, pass the torch.” No one ever says that.
Some part of me knows I’m not done yet.
Death to me seems like a release from the pain. In fact I’ve tried to crawl in that hole a few times. Apparently I’m not always successful at things I attempt. Or maybe I’m putting forth my best effort. That’s more likely the case. Some part of me knows I’m not done yet. I just don’t want to hurt anymore. I don’t want the voice in my head to keep telling me how worthless, damaged, and unlovable I am. That’s what needs to die.
Although, that voice is mine, and is as much a part of me as my right hand. Knowing that means that sometimes, I concede to the voice and acknowledge that I have to die and that I am done hurting and suffering.
Despite this inclination and conclusion I am still here. Working, going about daily business, and hiding it from everyone because I have concluded that being and showing who I really am makes me less than human and ultimately unworthy and unlovable. Despite my mind convincing me of all these things, and turning against me in the most infectious and insidious ways, I am still here. And so are you. If all you do today is read this and hang out with me, that’s okay. Just make sure you’re here tomorrow with me. We won’t quit, together.
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Always here.
Dave – Your courage and strength inspire ALL OF US. We need you. You matter. At some point you need to accept the fact that it is NOT YOUR FAULT that you have been cursed with an unbelievably cruel illness and that you DO deserve the love, attention and affection offered by your loved ones. It was the highlight of my day to “hang out with you” and I would be honored to do so every day.
We will walk this path together… always.
Thanks everyone. We make it together, because we are stronger together than anyone of us is individually. We are bound by our strength.
Wow man, it’s really hard for me to truly understand the pain you are going through since it is such personal thing. Opening up and writing this, helps give me a glimpse into what’s hurting you and I hope I and all of us can help you through.
Here’s a hug for you man, you deserve it, and every single good day you have, no matter what that voice is telling you.
Hey Dave. Wonderful and powerful description of your pain and how your mind works. I felt your pain, reading this.
Here’s a hug but I’m not going to give you permission to give up. You’ve made it this far.
You are loved and are lovable
Mom
Hey Dave!
Now, I’m going to start by saying that I understand anything said henceforth will all be concepts that you’ve thoroughly considered, even if they haven’t also been presented to you by someone else; however, I also have a strong understanding that validation and conceptual verification means more than words can describe to someone who spends their day stuck in their head, thinking about the vast plethora of possibilities that the world around you encompasses.
So with that, I want to say I love you. With your story that you’ve shared, I’ve come to gain a better understanding of where you’re coming from, but that does not change my opinion of you. This isn’t because of something superficial, like me saying it’s unconditional, but because this side of you amplifies the reasoning.
You are brilliant, compassionate, and hardworking. These traits that you seem to believe are lacking beneath the surface are in fact exemplified by your struggle: you understand what you are going through, so when countless people out there are confused about why they are having problems, you have shown to maintain your intelligence; your compassion appears to be even greater through this struggle, but it is obviously difficult to express that to other people, because they don’t normally see how you tick behind the scenes, and that what you’re often considering is your impact on the people around you, and that you are often putting their wellbeing ahead of yours; and you have proven to work so hard, that it deserves a new sentence, or a new paragraph even!
Everybody in this world is fighting an uphill battle. Things are never awarded without reason. Everyone else seems to be trying hard to push their baggage up a hill throughout life. However, your baggage happens to have a friction coefficient significantly greater than most everyone else’s, yet you’ve already scaled a mountain. You’ve already accomplished more than most people dream of doing in their whole lives. But that doesn’t mean your work is over. Frankly, you’re the Sherpa. You’re showing the way for so many other people. You’re showing that this mountain does have a path, and that you can achieve more than that little hill behind you can offer at the summit.
That is why you’re such a role model, Dave. You have accomplished so much, and your struggle is part of it. You’re not keeping others down, you’re proving to them that there is still more to do. That they can’t give up, because you haven’t given up. And thus, you will both keep climbing together.
I know you’ve thought of this. It’s inevitable. So remember that I’m here reminding you that this is the truth. This is the right possibility.
Thanks for sharing! It means a lot.
-Chaos
All I can muster right now is to say thank you; for sharing your feeling abd your voice in your head.
And I know you understand. It helps :)
You are lovable man! We love you! #SickNotWeak
Wow. As I read this, I am pretty sure that you are MY ‘son’.
He is exactly you – right down to the comment of wanting to die – and wanting the permission to do so – but as a Mom, I can’t let my son go; I can’t give him that permission. But, I want his pain to end to end for him and in my head and in my heart, some days I want to give him that permission. Maybe it is also being selfish because seeing the pain he is enduring from his depression, anxiety and OCD is slowly killing me inside too….
He is slowly dying from his suffering and has been for the past 9 years (he is 20 now). He has stopped eating. Stopped caring if he lives or dies.
We have tried for years to get him solid mental health treatment but in Ontario, it is not great. Oh sure, it helps for the moment: talks someone off the ledge but it is not real help; long lasting help. There are the crisis lines that talk you through a crisis and perhaps get you through to another day or if need be, advise you to go to the emergency room where you will ultimately get sent home because there are no beds or you are not really in crisis because you didn’t make an attempt to kill yourself. There are doctors you can see like psychiatrists – but you can only see them for 20 minutes every 3 months (or at least my sons) or therapists that you can access paid by OHIP but only available 9 – 5 Monday through Friday (and not holidays). There appears to be ALL this support, but is it real solid, long lasting, 24/7 good quality help?
In 2013 we got desperate and found a residential treatment program for our son in Ohio and paid $48,000 for a 28 days stay. It was a wonderful place that just focused on his well-being and my son worked hard to get healthy. They treated him holistically and since his return, he has slowly been declining because he was not getting the intense treatment (daily therapy) and doctors who made him accountable for making him do his ‘homework’ which ultimately were the tools to get through a crisis on his.
I am wondering Dave, if you would be interested in helping me get a 24/7 support program going. Much like an AA program where you have a ‘buddy’ when you are very sick. This buddy knows what you are going through because they have been there – at the bottom where death is the only option.
I will watch for your response Dave.
Thank you for your honest words.
T.
Hang around Kimber. One simple thing. Hang around and read, and post.
#FightingForALife. I’m in,
” What I feel that I really need is a hug, and permission to quit. ”
That really hit home for me. This is my 3rd sick leave from work and the first time anyone has been able to convince me that it’s OK to just stop. It’s like I’m always trying to prove to myself that I’m not a complete write off and still have something to contribute to society. It feels like taking care of yourself is giving into the illness. It’s been hard to admit I am limited and not to focus on that as the whole of who I am. It’s taken some years for me to understand that I can be the priority and not have my worth determined by what life can take from me. Sometimes just being is enough.
MeToo, Me too. A rigorous self regimen goes a long way but not all the way. It’s important to take care of yourself. Something I struggle with a lot.
Dave,
Thank you for sharing. I know it isn’t easy to admit your feelings, and I’m glad that you decided to do so. I’d never understood the depth of your struggles, which is a testament to the strength of will you command as you go about your routine.
I’m like to remind you however, that love isn’t earned. It isn’t a resource that must be carefully distributed among your acquaintances to ensure you don’t run out. And it certainly isn’t something that you lose because you stumble. Do you love someone less because they had a rough day? Do you appreciate your hardworking students less because they struggled with a new concept and ask for help? If anything the reverse is true. It’s part of human nature to help those close to you, to ensure that they aren’t left behind. Saying that you don’t deserve love because you are sick is the opposite of true; they’re the ones who deserve it the most. I’m sure you know as much, even if you have difficulty accepting it.
As for feeling that you drag others down due to their concern for you, well you’ve got this backwards too. For one, your work as a teacher and guide have brought moments of happiness and have helped me become a better person (seriously, even though it sounds cheesy). The thought and structure you put into your classes was exactly what I needed for university. Having the extra tools and knowledge that you would squeeze into the course proved handy and opened new ways to think about and connect the material. It’s a really cool feeling to come back to a topic you learned about and approach it from a different perspective, resulting in a deeper understanding than either approach would’ve yielded alone (Gauss’ Law was a big one for me in this respect). Furthermore, your actions and reactions to things, both online and off have very often gave me pause to think and realize that I could be doing something better. Even then, offhand comments about subjects like “yeah, calc 2 was pretty straightforward” made me get off my ass and start studying. Heck, even learning about how you’re feeling got me to write an essay and post online, two things I avoid religiously.
So no, you aren’t dragging anyone down, and you aren’t unworthy of love. And as to whether you deserve recognition? You were dealt a bad starting hand and you still managed to reach a high bid. That’s a winning play in my book. I’ll end this here by saying that I, and many others, love you and are here for you, even if you don’t think we should. Eyes up.
#DHead
That is great! I live in the KW, Ontario. What part of the ‘world’ are you in?
#FightingForALife
Calgary
Shucks, I was hoping you were in Ontario :( We can still create a network of peer supports that are available 24/7 from ANYWHERE in the world. Thoughts?
I think this website, forum, and chat are going a long way to start exactly what we’re talking about. We need to figure out how we best contribute. $, moderators, or whatever.