Monday, 20 June 2016

Drown again and again until embracing death

If I had to summarise my feelings today it would probably be 'intense sorrow'. With the mounting stresses on me, I feel as if I'm rapidly approaching the breaking point. Even though part of me continues to optimistically march forward through this hellscape that is life, the remainder feels just pain and wishes for death.

The thing which wears the most away at one's soul is that of never feeling safe. Of knowing that always that darkness is lurking somewhere. That at any point one can be pulled suddenly down into the dark waters with sickeningly warm tentacles of darkness wrapping all around one. Then one is drowning. Drowning in darkness.

Drowning is an interesting thing. For many people who end up dying from drowning, it's because they realised that there was no way out, no rescue; floundering until they were too weak to struggle any longer. Unable to keep their head above the water and their legs kicking, they are forced to find peace with their imminent demise.

Similarly, with depression and trauma it's not water which drowns one, but this darkness that grows and envelops one's mind. Sustaining itself on stress, pain and negative emotions, it also awaits those moments of weakness, when one's struggling grows weaker, at which point the darkness surges forward, consuming all it can.

Each time, the victim grows weaker. Even if they seem to recover afterwards, another bit of their vitality and energy is lost. Time after time, month after month, year after year... the end is pretty much inevitable.

In my own situation I know what bothers me a lot. Foremost is the injustice of having to pay this massive fine for something I did not do, with the drying up of donations after a month reinforcing the thought that people feel that I am a liar and should just admit to being an unreliable, violent charlatan.

After that comes the knowledge that I have to find a house to rent as soon as possible, because this apartment is making me sick, is unsuitable to recover in from surgery, forces me to sleep with earplugs in every night and also has the owner harassing me to pay more money than they can demand. Even after more than a month of asking and looking around, I haven't found an alternative yet. The fear that I won't be able to find anything and that more trouble is coming soon is terrifying me.

Finally, there are the countless projects I'm working on. As I try to find myself again after having lost my identity decades ago, I seek to create the career and future I wished for myself, but never could accomplish because I was too lost. The uncertainty of whether I can accomplish any of this now at this late stage is also worrying me a lot.

In the end, when making up the balance I simply feel too hated, too loathed, too ignored, too different to live in this society. The things I have had to suffer through and some things I have to accept today are inhumane or simply unacceptable. Regularly I am confronted with these facts, such as today, and feel myself drowning in darkness.

Through it all there is the tantalising lure of sweet oblivion. It would be so simple. It doesn't take more than a single moment of bravery, or a simple tank of nitrogen with a breathing mask and it'd all be over. The human body is so fragile, after all, and the spark of the mind so easily extinguished.

I feel so terribly alone. I feel that nobody truly cares about whether I live or die, as I suffer through each day. This means that the only person I need to care about is myself, and whether I care whether I live or die. Truthfully, at moments like these - when all I can see and feel is darkness - I'd gladly embrace death.

Stop struggling. Stop kicking. Just drift off into the fathomless depths and the tender embrace of oblivion.

I feel so incredibly tired...



Dan Robinson said...

I am not going to pretend to know what you are going through. But I know what it feels like to be defeated, discouraged and to want to stop swimming.

I just want to say don't stop. Don't give up. You matter. There is someone out there who is inspired by your life even though they may not have the courage to say so.

Just keep swimming.

laarree said...

Maya, I know the feelings you are describing very well. A half hour ago I had been crying into a couple of bed pillows for several minutes. I use the pillows to make sure that my loud and bizarre sounds cannot be heard by neighbors in my apartment building. I've done this countless times during the last 7 months or so, an unexpected byproduct of finally coming out to myself and other people as being gender variant/nonbinary — periodic eruptions of loneliness, frustration, bitterness, grief, resentment and hopelessness. Crying this stuff out enables me to return to at least partial rationality, which usually is followed by a visit to Facebook.

I've followed your blog posts for a while. I am rooting for you to win your fight. The injustices you've endured are horrific.