April 5, 1994

"Is there no way out of the mind?
                      Sylvia Plath  -  The Bell Jar

I awoke this morning engulfed in the blunt blackness of blinding depression.  I can't understand how such destructive and debilitating depression can sneak up so silently in the night as I sleep - and then slither under the sheets and slip into my skin.  What causes these attacks?  More and more often, I am being ambushed by such onslaughts.  Was it seeing Maggie last night? Was it something she said?  I don't think so. Does it start with something submerged in the subconscious that gets startled into consciousness?

I believe Andy and Yoyo may have been responsible for this morning incendiary incident.  Seeing them last night and seeing how happy they were to see me, brought joy to my heart.  It was te happiest moment I've had in over a month.  But when I left them I was overwhelmed with sadness - my heart pierced with pain.

Reality scares me. So, to be safe, I seek seclusion where I'm secure which is within my imagination of daydreams and fantasy. Reality is a world from which I am trying to escape.  Reality is no longer for me for I wasn't made to live in such a world.  T.S. Eliot, "human kind cannot bear very much reality." I can't bear anymore.

I wish that by closing my eyes, people couldn't see me rather than me not being able to see them. For twenty-five years I have been pretending that I am an adult, always trying to avoid the pressure of responsibilities.  When I was in elementary school and high school, I was mature beyond my age.  But sometime in my early 20's I began to unravel, slowly but steadily  -  and gradually withdrew into a cocoon of self, becoming less dependable, less mature.

I have been reading books about depression and suicide, and how people battle with these beasts.  I have identified with their words and experiences, have shared their feelings of pain, uncertainties and hopelessness.  But I have not found any inspiration or words that can help me - maybe they just weren't there or I simply missed them.  What I have learned is that nothing is real unless it is happening to you, then you're on your own to suffer and cope anyway you can.

Lesley Hazelton wrote, "There is no perfect solution to depression, nor should there be."  But I have found the perfect solution as have others - it is suicide.

3:00pm   -   Eldredge Library   -   Chatham, MA

contact: fortheheartcries@gmail.com

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