48, a failure & terrified of death, yet wanting to die.

Had a bit of a wild and moody night; am OK, in 1 piece, still, but worried what the future holds, and how long it will be. I am haunted by a friend's death, and just haunted, in general. At least I have no fear of death anymore; I have enough sedatives socked away to kill an elephant or two...if I took them, I would not even be aware of the painful part of death, that long agony my friends who have died have told me about, and which scares me very much. I want to go without that, on my own terms.

What? I may have some 20 years still, maybe 30 if I'm very lucky, hard to say...the clock is winding down, and me, still so very much like a little boy, full of wonder. Not at all ready to go, yet still, crying over the thought of not being here anymore. Not so much scared, but very sad.

I feel I had such great potential; the best grades, college, and all that...and yet, my skills never found a use as a humanist and English major, I have struggled just to get by, and feel in comparison to all these gays my age like I am such a failure, have no $, no credit, a stupid job that has no meaning and I can barely hold on to and pays shit, yet I keep for fear of not being able to afford insurance....

So many time, I think: Maybe just end it now, while there is not so much pain????

Who would even know, aside from a few friends; my family has had 3 suicides, it's sort od routine, now.

And no, those stupid SSRIs and antidepressants DO NOT HELP...I have tried so many, don't tell me they work, and Wellbutrin was even worse, and the older rugs before that, the same...if I had to take them again, I'd walk out in traffic, jump in front of a train, slit my wrists, bleed all over. I HATE those stupid pills, especially SSRIS and antidepressants, which are a lie, a fake, they make you a lifeless, stupid zombie.

And I hate then they say, 'Depression is a treatable disease', and all that BS, because, no it isn't , not always don't lie to me, I'm not dumb.

And never call those idiotic suicide hotlines; they wound't even talk to me. Said I wasn't suicidal enough. The fuck? What do I have to do, bleed though the phone??????

 

Hey everyone, thanks...I'm eating some comfort food, having some chocolate milk, trying to calm down, and breathe.

I do have a talk therapist I've been seeing, who I like; he was gone for a month, so we've just started up again.

So far, out of maybe 6 SSRIs, they've all had the same really, really horrible side effects, and I can't tolerate them...same with anything that works of Serotonin/Dopamine...makes me all tense and numb and robotic, and makes me hurt, like my muscles are all tight.

I think it's hard for me because I still can't even imagine a job that sounds like it would be a good fit. I was an English major, I read a good deal, write poetry, though I'm very much an extrovert.

I'm horrible with computers, and not at all a fan of technology, and even science is only of tangential concern...I don't seem to fit what's at all in demand, and can't figure out what to do, in the realm of possibility...I'd like to do things like save the fossas and lemurs in Madagascar, or be a poet, and be paid for that, but that's not real practical, at all...

Well, again, I'm going to lay down, and try to rest.

I've always been way too scared to call a hospital; I had a friend do that, and afterwards, it was like the state took over their life, and treated them like a baby, or an idiot, and they got even more depressed, and are so much worse today. So I'm very, very scared of things like a psych ward.

It is odd, though, my family suicides: A cousin on his 21st birthday, an uncle at 67, an aunt, his wife, at 68...and on both sides of the family. My family is distant, so it's not talked of much.

Had a medical exam a year ago; things checked out almost too normal, as far as bloodwork, and all that went...but I do have a lot of pain and tension, jaw/TMJ issues, sleep problems, and a lot of generalized anxiety, even though I am very social and outgoing.

 

Hi again, and thanks.

I've posted some poetry here and again around EC, and that's awful sweet for asking to share some. I'll have to dig something up. It tends to be narrative in style, and tends to take me ages to revise and polish up...hard to ever feel a piece is finished!

I did try a few mouth/bite guards for TMJ, but they ended up as chew-toys, and I ended up putting just as much pressure on the joints/muscles. After seeing a few specialists, and being in a study, I concluded it's a hard thing to treat...mainly, it's been anti-convulsants/sedatives and muscle relaxers; it was suggested to get two one hour massages per week, which I'd prefer, but that would easily run me $600 a month, almost half of what I make. I have had a few massages, and they do help for maybe a day or a few hours, then it's all tense again. I take hot baths sometimes, and wish I had one of those flotation/isolation tanks, I tried that once, and that really did seem to help, and make me more relaxed. I sometimes try to meditate, but with not too much success...too much static. It seems to work best when I pretend to be an animal (other than human), and think of what that would feel like, what your senses and consciousness would be like, then.

OK, I think I'm starting to bounce back some. I still wish I had some idea/hope for a job that held meaning, and paid the bills better...that's been my worst struggle in life, not finding my niche, and feeling like the skills and qualities I have don't matter/are not rewarded.

~

I'll post some poetry, and send a link, or maybe just post some here...

Here's an older one I revised, from a series about love and loging in my teen years, about a boy I had a crush on, riding the bus:

Maybe I forgot what you looked like


I rode the same bus for seven years
& only knew that skinny, red-headed boy
from twenty minute rides
in the grey AM light,
shoulders bunched three to a seat,
legs pressed close
by curving river roads,
pulled together by gravity
as my own small sex strained
hidden beneath the backpack on my lap
&
at night
my thighs ground down the memory against the sheets
eyes squinted down into pillows,
his face
etched in light behind my eyelids,
orange hair like straw,
the sour smell like apples, or glue,
freckles caught like small stones
in currents
washing away an outline,
the struggling upstream motion
as I strain to fill it in.

---H.Pup, revised 2013

 

Hey Mr. Polar Bear, thanks so much for coming out of hibernation. Your words mean a lot.

It is funny that I'm 48. I don't at all feel 48, or much want to be 48! I never listed my age in my little profile, because I didn't want to be judged for it; it seemed so much older than everyone, and I always thought it would scare people away. I have dropped many hints at how old I am in my posts; having come out in 1984, for instance and such things...but you'd have to be looking!

Our situations have interesting points of convergence. I was also a lot better off, but basically, stagnant wages and steeply rising costs eroded that away.

It's hard, too, because there seems to be this expectation that gay men 'should' be pretty well off, or at least, not struggling. It's almost like I'm embarrassed, at times, to meet people my age, because I don't want them to see how little I have, and because I just can't talk about living in the same kind of world, so to speak...but I'm sure you know the feeling, here, in your way.

I'mm write a longer message and post it to your wall. I need to apply for full membership again, so I can post PMs. There's things I'd really like to talk about, more, I just wonder if they'll have me as a full member, or if they see me as too 'over the top', again.

I sure hope I've managed to help some people here; I try to be honest, make folks laugh, be friendly...

Well, we'll talk more soon, at work, then, soon, the bus to the train and then the walk home from there. Gives me exercise, tough!

I sure hope you feel better, too.

Hey there, and thanks...I do have the next 3 days off, and plan to take it easy, and rest. I see my therapist tomorrow, whom I like. (Psychologist). I don't take any anti-depressants anymore, because after trying so many of them, they all seem to have the same effect: making me very wired, tense, and numb....so, unless something new and much more accurate and targeted comes out, I'm gonna steer clear.

Yeah, I have learned to be happy with less, to be sure. It's a good skill to have. The main problem, though, is say, when you need dental care, but get turned away, for being too poor to afford it, but making to much to get help...these are the times when not having $ is hardest, when you're' in pain, and denied treatment...and for vision and dental, the coverage I have just is not there, so I have bad eye problems, and my teeth hurt a lot, and the $$$ it would cost...whoa. I never have that much. Dental school even wants cash up front, and a lot of it....like $750 for a root canal/crown. How can I afford a whole paycheck for that, and I need at least 3 of them, and other stuff??????

OK, I'm kinda rambling.....