Anxieyote
Sobriety over everything else • 30 • Midwest
- Mar 24, 2021
- 445
Dad took me out to get chicken wings last night at a restaurant in town. He gave me a lecture about the importance of hard work, and asked me about my future career goals.
Dad…have you been living under a rock? I'm almost 30 with no discernible job skills and I dropped out of college years ago. I checked myself into a mental health facility just a month ago for suicidal thoughts.
You could say he's encouraging me, but at this point, I think he's living in fantasy land. Something is obviously wrong with me mentally, and he talks about me doing things like business management or taking on "leadership roles".
I can barely get dressed in the morning and walk out the door without having a mental breakdown.
At this point, it feels like he's plugging his ears and saying, "I can't hear you!!" whenever I dare to even mention anything relating to my mental issues. He didn't even inquire about my experience at the psych ward, and he pretends like it didn't happen.
There is no "going back to normal" as far as I'm concerned. Maybe some of you would think it's sweet that he's still encouraging me to find a job I love, but that's the least of my concern when I ruminate about ending my life daily.
I'm in survival mode, and I'm doing everything I can just to keep my head above water—being ambitious with my career goals is not something that's even on the table at this point.
It's the equivalent of going up to someone who's drowning, and saying, "Have you thought about not drowning and learning how to swim?" as they suffocate and die in front of you.
Dad…have you been living under a rock? I'm almost 30 with no discernible job skills and I dropped out of college years ago. I checked myself into a mental health facility just a month ago for suicidal thoughts.
You could say he's encouraging me, but at this point, I think he's living in fantasy land. Something is obviously wrong with me mentally, and he talks about me doing things like business management or taking on "leadership roles".
I can barely get dressed in the morning and walk out the door without having a mental breakdown.
At this point, it feels like he's plugging his ears and saying, "I can't hear you!!" whenever I dare to even mention anything relating to my mental issues. He didn't even inquire about my experience at the psych ward, and he pretends like it didn't happen.
There is no "going back to normal" as far as I'm concerned. Maybe some of you would think it's sweet that he's still encouraging me to find a job I love, but that's the least of my concern when I ruminate about ending my life daily.
I'm in survival mode, and I'm doing everything I can just to keep my head above water—being ambitious with my career goals is not something that's even on the table at this point.
It's the equivalent of going up to someone who's drowning, and saying, "Have you thought about not drowning and learning how to swim?" as they suffocate and die in front of you.