Read on Twitter
OK. I am going to post some personal stuff. Make sure you do not read this thread if you are at all opposed to whiny self-indulgence on Twitter.
I'm serious. This is fair warning. If you have issues with tweets that are either depressing or about depression, skip it. If you hate people who bitch about their problems on Twitter, you should probably unfollow - but then hell, why were you following me to begin with?
Anyway. Here is some bleak shit. I recommend ignoring it.
Recently some pretty awful stuff has happened to me. I can't tell you exactly what's happened: all I can tell you is it's bad and it has utterly crushed me. I am currently pretty much at rock bottom: I've never felt worse.
Sidebar: this is not "my brain lying to me" or "depression is such a bastard". This is actual real life shit that's gone down and the only way to not feel this way would be for what happened to have not happened.
So, I'm in a state. I am in a depression so deep I do not know that I will ever emerge. I feel like sadness has been written into every cell of my body.
Yes, suicide has been occurring to me. Every single day. I do not want to die, but on a daily basis I mull over the pros and cons of doing so. I am unable at this time to provide any guarantees that I will not do so very soon.
And here is the thing: my state of mind right now is a knife wound in my chest. And the lockdown is the knife twisting in it, over and over and over. Everything that is god-awful about my life right now is multiplied by the virus situation.
Because under lockdown there is no relief, there is no escape. I cannot see friends. I cannot go to the movies. I cannot go out to eat. I cannot go to the zoo, which is my go-to for relaxing and clearing my mind. I cannot go to comedy gigs or host my trivia nights.
In a nutshell, there is nothing I can do to take myself away from the reality that is grinding me into the dust every minute of every hour of every day. The pandemic has trapped me inside my own misery.
The reason I am saying this right here and right now is not because I expect any kind of sympathy or understanding, and I certainly don't expect any help, because I know no one can help.
I'm saying it simply because in the absence of any release valve, the tiniest and most unsatisfactory of consolations is the ability to at least admit that I am broken and destroyed, and let others see my pain rather than deny it.
I need to say it, but I don't need to hear from you. You all have your own problems too, and as pathetically as I crave pity from the world, I don't expect it, and I don't deserve it.
I just want you to know: I am bereft, and I am lost, and every time I hear an assurance that we are going to get through this lockdown, I am struck by uncertainty, because I have genuine doubts as to whether I will. And the last thing I will say here is:
Every time you meet, observe or interact with another human being, you don't know whether or not they're fighting something the way I am right now. You don't know. Never lose sight of that fact, and please try not to make anyone's life worse than it already is.
OK I'm done now. If this thread is mentioned to me, I will deny knowing anything about it.
