Unfortunately, around October last year (I only know this because of e-mail exchanges with friends) I started suffering from some pretty acute depression.
I'll get to spots where I'll question the purpose of living out my remaining years versus just picking a good time to end it. I've got a spinal injury that causes some serious pain (some times incapable of bending over to tie my shoes without an intense stabbing in the lower back) at 35, and it's only going to get worse with age.
I'm on nexium for GERD which is unpleasant, I've tried changing diet and exercising and nothing seems to help as in addition to all that, stress continues to pile up in my life. All my friends have married off, are crapping out kids, and generally since they've got pussy they don't need the old friends.
Or they can be killjoys that are unwilling to try different things (TV shows, movies, games, etc.) so it's really not enjoyable to hang out even if I have the opportunity.
Living in the same place I grew up isn't helping. The place keeps getting worse and worse. The hospital I was crapped out in was torn down years ago, the grade school I went to shuttered, the high school shuttered. The recession hit the area hard and folks that could got out and what's left are true believers and scum bags. Every day there's some new affront, siding stolen off of houses, vacant homes broken into to steal the copper, new graffiti, and just angry faces everywhere.
Four years ago I gave up on going outside of the house. It just wasn't worth it anymore after being accosted by a gang of punks with golf clubs. So now I go to work, come home and lock the doors.
This has all been building to a head since 2002 when I was first laid off, unemployed for a year, unable to find work in my field, and had to haul my ass back up by the boot straps over the next couple years.
Now due to a tax filing snafu I'm being audited by the city - because I'm so wealthy.
Life feels pretty shit at times, and back in October I had a massive freak out. Came home from work and just laid on the floor in the hallway crying for quite some time.
Last week I had a similar freak out at home due to all the stress piling up with no outlet.
It's just a bummer and while I've been searching for five years worth of tax information I found old high school transcripts and reflected on what a total fuck up I've been pretty much all my life, if I applied myself I could have gotten some scholarships, if my parents gave a shit they would have noticed the awards I was receiving in art classes and maybe encouraged me to go to the Art Institute instead of mollycoddling me like some faberge egg.
Now I'm 35, if I'm lucky I've got another 37 years in me, and it feels like I've pissed away 26 of those years after my grandfather died. I attribute what little good there is in me to his guidance, and after he passed nobody really paid attention to things I was good at and encouraged me to pursue them.
Not to pass the buck on my folks. You need to have a good big pair of balls too, and unfortunately I was so full of fear as a child those big balls never manifested until later in life; but that was a reaction to just not giving a damn anymore.
I think back on my grandmother and how she fell apart after my grandfather died, how my family wasn't there enough for her, and how she eventually took her own life. When I was younger I thought it was because part of her mental faculties were damaged when my grandfather died, but now it just seems to me she may have so loved my grandfather that the void left by his passing could only be filled by taking those pills.
Apologies if that strikes anybody as whining. I've just been desperate to vent lately.