Stop those thoughts, control your mind

So, aftermath then.
I slept long and when I awoke felt quite groggy. Yesterday was a low point, more due to the fact that it had started off well. I'm confused as to why it descended so quickly and why it led me to me feeling as suicidal as I was. Today I feel better but still a bit tense, I suppose you could say. The trouble with having a suicidal mind is that once you've accepted it and have even started planning it, anything that disrupts those plans makes you almost annoyed. As if you're weak for not following through with your plans. It's like having a nagging friend in the corner of your mind all the time,
'You can't think about buying that shirt, you're going to kill yourself. What's the point of planning to buy that or anything else?'
Silly isn't it? My own mind conspiring against me like that. It makes you tired, weary. I have to tell myself, 'Not today eh? Let's leave it for now.'
My depression, (I wish this illness had a new name, depression doesn't fit it anymore, especially as it is used to describe a 'gloomy' mood or an off day. The two are all too often interchangeable) is an illness that doesn't really have a big start point, no big emotional experience or background that set it off. I remember reading years ago about how metal illnesses usually start off in one of two ways:
A big emotional event, death of a loved one, some traumatic event or childhood experience that sets it off. These are usually quick and short.
Slow and steady. nothing in particular sets it off and it sticks around.

Which is mine, slow and steady. 
I could point to various stressful moments over its course through my life but nothing that big. Of course the divorce made it worse but apart from that, there isn't any one thing that started it off. Which makes it harder to accept sometimes. I think, we as humans always look for some sort of reason for conditions and I'm not different.
I have some therapy on Friday. 
I think it's probably about time.

Chocolate waffles

I might as well have them for hands. 

I can barely cope with anything more than a handful and when I do try I leave behind a mess. Today started off well enough, up early for the gym, brekkie and coffee. An hour later and I was back in bed, feeling everything just collapse inside of me. I'd messaged in and said I'd been throwing up most of the night. Let's face it, it's easier to say something like that than, 'I'm feeling suicidal. Again.' 
I stuck on some music, Manic Street Preachers and Radiohead, and let myself nod off into an uncomfortable sleep. Vivid dreams followed, one being about suicide. The dreams were for some reason set in the night-time which felt odd and gave it a darker edge too. After that I felt awful, my stomach felt as if I'd ingested a dozen alka-seltzers, fizzy and uncomfortable. Nerves filled me, dread permeated. My phone, when I eventually checked it had messages and missed calls noted. I still haven't checked the messages. I haven't felt this bad for a long time. I've felt off and bad but today is truly the worst. Certain pictures and sounds on the TV felt almost painful to see and hear. If I'd had some sort of decent plan and wasn't so scared I'd be able to well, you know.
Nodding off in front of that Ken Burns documentary, 'Civil War' offered some respite but as soon as I awoke it was back to that feeling again. I feel unable to talk about it as well. 
My mother asked me what was wrong, what set it off? but I felt mute and said nothing. 
I just can't get the words out. But then it feels easier to say nothing. 
No more words. 
For what is the point? 
It will just be the same ones I've heard and spoken time and time again. 

I'm frightened of what is to come.

1,000 years

Sometimes I really wish I could go to sleep for a thousand years. Then maybe I could wake up and start again. Shed this life for a new one. It's days like these that make me yearn for a sleep like that. Days which are repeating themselves all too frequently lately.
Today has been one of those days and it's been a rubbish one. One which I was all too ready to hide under the sheets, leave the TV on with either Dr Who or football and let things unfold in front of me. Even when I did attempt to try and do something productive like make a meal, that threatened to go badly. The simple act of buttering some bread had me almost explode in rage/burst into tears. Watching it fold up and crumble in my hand still makes me rage when I think about it now. Daft eh? but there you go. That's me at the moment.
The feeling inside is one of cold hollowness.

What on earth am I going to do? 

When I try and think of a future it doesn't look good at all. All I can see it me with 'this'. Everything I ever hoped for or wished for is turning into nothing, just a load of high hoping dreams. A life of this is hard to comprehend, no matter how many times I write about it, think about it or live through it.
Writing these words makes me angry and I don't know why.
My inner rage is giving me a headache.

This mocking disease

It now seems to be settling into a pattern. Things get too much and the breaker switch is activated. My nerves get so high that I become more sensitive (over sensitive?) and find the ability to comprehend even the most basic of tasks limited. Tears will flow at the smallest thing and the thoughts of suicide become commonplace once more. This will also be accompanied by a certain song that will soundtrack my demise, almost like a dramatic moment in a TV show with me the sole star. The tune and images will push my emotions ever upward until I can't sift through what is real and what is my my mind magnifying my taste for the over-dramatic. What is fueling what? Me, the depression, the music? Or is it all three? Whatever. All I know is that when things reach an emotional high point I find myself approaching shut-down. If I was apiece of machinery I think I'd have a warning label that would state: Warning! Machinery is prone to shut down at points of high stress. Excerpts from the climax of Oasis' 'champagne supernova' will sound at this action!

This hating half of me has won this battle easily...

Things were starting to level out a little this last week or so. I had seen an old friend who I found out had depression and gone through a suicide attempt like me so we had a good long chat (over nine hours worth) and that had helped both of us, I think, knowing we could talk to each other about it and that, if things got bad, just by uttering, 'I'm having a bad day', we'd both know what that actually meant as opposed to most who wouldn't know or even care what those words really meant and would take it along the lines of, 'So?! So what you're having a bad day, who doesn't?! 
Having read back over some course work that was returned back to me with some pretty heavy and damning feedback, I've spun back to my usual. Phonecalls, whether receiving or taken are causing me fits of worry and making decisions, (what to eat? what to eat?!?! Jaffa cakes will do) are nigh on impossible. What I find odd and probably worrying if I wasn't already full up with worry, is that I can almost feel my black fighting its way through the anti-depressants. I was almost numb to the worry but I can feel it overwhelming me and well, I'm not sure I want to fight back. It's tiring and near impossible to push back. 
'Chin up', 'Could be worse' and the such like become nothing more than empty hollow slogans when used in the face of this. So what do I do? I don't know. Sit back and let it submerge me and hope I can get through it.
Again.

"Nervous juvenile, won't smile, what became of you..."

At the moment I'm going through a little blip, too many thoughts and worries are over-loading my head and making me close to shut down. The only respite being thoughts of suicide.
It seems like a recent return with a lot of feedback, on an assignment has left me both confused, upset and angry. 
It has also left me wondering if I can even complete this course with any sort of reasonable grade. It doesn't bear thinking about as I've really put all my proverbial eggs into one cliche laden basket so if this doesn't work I don't know what I can do or even try next.
It seems like my ability to cope or to take on any sort of criticism, be it constructive or very destructive is getting smaller and smaller. That isn't good where feedback is of, if not essential, to the things I like and am involved in. 

Why can't I cope anymore? 

The person who did a parachute jump, went on stage, could mix with a variety of people from different backgrounds in a room and who could handle a roomful of people and make them laugh with it; little man, what now little man?

Vuoto A Perdere

The title subject is a song by the Italian songstress, Noemi. I got into her music during my honeymoon to Italy about 4 years ago. It was something both myself and the (then) wife liked so much that we bought the album. We'd initially seen the video for the song on Italian MTV and enjoyed it a lot.
Now, however, when I listen to it there is so much emotional thought, memory and feeling tied up that as soon as those first notes register I'm transported right back to our time in Italy and of our general times together in an intense explosion of memories. 
Songs can work both ways I guess, good memories, bad memories and memories that were good but which you'd rather hide away for the time being as when they are brought to the surface they tend to hurt some.
This song though is something that when I used to listen to it it would make me emotional anyway, as, when we were still together, it was my way of going over our honeymoon in Italy and I guess I programmed it into my mind so that now this song will forever be tied up with that time and those memories of us. Never did I think that it'd work against me though.
It can't be helped I guess, not now. Memories and experiences will always make some sort of mark, be they good or bad and that's something else I need to try and live with.