The Weight of Recovery

[glittergore]

I'm not going to be saying anything new here, just venting. Everyday of my life I oscillate between thinking death is the best option for me and wanting to really try to make a fulfilling life for myself. I look back at my journal from times I was able to reap positivity, and while I don't always feel it, I am reminded of the things that are important to me and why I've stuck around for so long despite dealing with so much agony from such a young age. Still, though, I can feel myself getting weaker, or perhaps it would be better for me to say less tolerant; I planned on killing myself at 14 and didn't go through with it, then again at 18, then again at 21, but now at 23 my suicidal ideation feels different this time around. I've gotten so much closer to actually doing it than I ever have in the past, so much more accepting of the idea of my death. However, there's still this spirit inside me that really thinks I can make something of myself and my life, despite my past, my issues with the world, existence, and my myself, and my mental illness.

All of this being said, recovery is so, so difficult. I've made strides the last couple of months, but Jesus, I'm exhausted. One of the more pressing reasons I'm suicidal right now does have a potential solution, but to pursue it will be time-consuming, draining, and agonizing. I don't know how much more I have in me to do this, or if I even want to do this. I have a lot of concerns about my capacity and growth potential. Maybe it is possible for me to recover, but I don't know if I have it in me to get there. I can see this improving as I improve, but I don't know if that's what will actually happen to me, if that's how it will work. I remember reading once that there's something comforting about staying miserable - it ties into my signature quote about feeding the morbid conscience - and when that's the only comfort I feel on the daily basis, it's a siren song.

I'm going to try, like always. I don't know when I'll know to stop trying, but hopefully I'll just know. I apologize if this is in the wrong forum; it kind of straddles the line between recovery and suicide.

 

[RealHumanBean]

it kind of straddles the line between recovery and suicide.

This sentence describes my existence. My experience is identical to yours in the sense that suicidal ideation set in at 15, i had an attempt at 21, and i'm early 30s now and have never gone more than a few days at a time without wishing/hoping/preferring to be dead. Functionally suicidal. It's a horrible way to live but it hardly feels like a choice to let go. We have to exhaust ourselves just to scrape by with a basic life. The line between recovery and suicide gets infinitely narrower.

 

[timf]

If one considers recovery in terms of high standards, it can seem daunting as well as fuel a sense of hopelessness. It can be important to recognize accomplishments even if they are small and give yourself credit for those successes.

Getting this far is an achievement worthy of praise. Some have to approach life with circumstances or neurology that hinders progress. If one does not give themselves enough credit, it is like an extra obstacle.

 

[self destructing]

I feel this. I find myself self-sabotaging efforts to recover. I feel guilt whenever I experience a flicker of happiness. My half-hearted efforts to improve my mood, to build routines into my day, feel fake and futile. Depression has become so familiar that not only am I scared to experience anything else, I'm not sure I deserve it.

Several people have told me that the foundation to recovery is the desire to get better, to believe you're worth it, to fight like hell. It's quite discouraging to hear. My therapist more helpfully tells me that recovery is naturally going to feel precarious and futile. I'm planting seeds of hope in such hostile soil - I've felt hopeless and helpless for so long. But if you scatter enough seeds, then some will take root. I'm trying to restructure my brain. It's going to take time to re-engage life. I need to have some faith, some patience, some self-compassion.
I feel this. I find myself self-sabotaging efforts to recover. I feel guilt whenever I experience a flicker of happiness. My half-hearted efforts to improve my mood, to build routines into my day, feel fake and futile. Depression has become so familiar that not only am I scared to experience anything else, I'm not sure I deserve it.

Several people have told me that the foundation to recovery is the desire to get better, to believe you're worth it, to fight like hell. It's quite discouraging to hear. My therapist more helpfully tells me that recovery is naturally going to feel precarious and futile. I'm planting seeds of hope in such hostile soil - I've felt hopeless and helpless for so long. But if you scatter enough seeds, then some will take root. I'm trying to restructure my brain. It's going to take time to re-engage life. I need to have some faith, some patience, some self-compassion.

 

[LittleJem]

I personally think depression/mental illness is often genetic (as well as related to trauma etc) and that people who think you can cure it with some kind of positive thinking shit, are full of shit. The fact that I can't get up off the floor and my mind cannot think of anything but misery, unless I am on drugs, demonstrates this to me clearly. It's the same shit as blaming people who have cancer for having cancer. Think your way out of cancer? Think your way out of MS? No? Okay - but you can think your way out of depression? BS.

The only weird thing was one time I had a energy healing session that made me feel better for a week or two. Goodness knows why.

My bf is a computer programmer and believes the brain can be reprogrammed, but for me it is physical as an illness.

 

[inactive]

It shows great strength to battle on despite being knocked down again and again. I truly hope things will work out for you this time! If it doesn't, at least you can say you tried.

 

[onlyeverexisting]

Extremely well said. I've also read that a lot of recovery just comes down to believing that you can get better, which is somehow simultaneously the most simple yet difficult thing. It's shifting your perspective from being broken, to simply needing healing. But you have to challenge it every time it comes up, which is fucking exhausting considering how difficult it is to imagine another way of existing at that moment. And that even having the space to do it can be dependent on a combination of meds, coping skills, and a million other factors that might not be under your control. This is hard work. Thanks for sharing.