I've become completely crippled by depression and loneliness.
Funny how you can feel the same way you did almost 2 years ago...and wonder if anything's really different:
"I feel sick to my stomach and disjointed today. One of those days where you are so disconnected from yourself that it affects even your 'pretending to be okay' functionality.
I want to cry, but don't remember how and it never helps anyway. I don't want to be alone anymore. I have no direction, no hope. And when you don't have hope, life isn't a very fun experience."
In sacrament we sat behind the lady I overheard last week and I just glowered the whole time. The message resonated in my head to not let other people and their judgments affect me - don't let it interrupt the reasons I come to church... but I couldn't do it. I wouldn't even sing again. She has silenced my voice. And I don't how to recover from that.
Sunday School was about optimism, but it didn't sink in. I listened to the lesson, I commented, I appreciated, but I didn't absorb. I didn't internalize. The darkness is too thick around me.
My stomach won't stop hurting; I'm curled up in my bed, bawling, so alone, wishing for that which I have only truly felt once in my life: peace.
Why can't I have it? If I want it so bad I'm ready to kill myself over it, why won't you give it to me? What else do I have to do to beg you?
As if I didn't have enough on my plate already, I also found out this week - firsthand - that my little sister has started purging. She went in the bathroom and I heard every gut-wrenching moment of it. At first I thought I misheard. Then I thought maybe she was sick. No. She kept gagging over and over and over. It was so loud. I was sick for the rest of the day. Really? I didn't have enough already? More?
The only time I have ever ached in my body this much for my family was the time my brother tried to commit suicide in his room after losing his girlfriend, and I was left holding the bloody knife while my mom dragged him to the ER.
It's so heavy. More than chains and cement blocks dragging me down to death. Is there peace here? At the bottom of the choking blanket, when I open my mouth to gulp in death, will I find it?
I don't want to be here anymore, I don't want to do this anymore. I'm just too tired. And too battered. Being alone - being Jesus - is too much for me to handle.