Post by Audio the obscure on Jun 13, 2014 14:07:53 GMT -5
To you all or whoever chooses to read this:
Don't know if anyone cares to read this post or not as I've written different posts on su about the same thing - depression, blah blah blah.
I don't know if I can go on much longer.
I wish I had never moved to this place. Yes it's better than the roominghouse in terms of my freedom to do the basic things without worrying that I might see somebody (another tenant) down the hall to the kitchen or to the bathroom, since now I have my own self contained apartment with both of these things.
The lady upstairs can watch her tv and play it loud any time she wants, and I know that's her right. But the caretaker said to me, last time we discussed this, something to the effect of: when I want to play my guitar, wait for her car to leave, and then play it. But yet this other tenant can play her tv whether I'm home or not. To me restricting my guitar playing only to "when the lady's car is gone" is unfair. I hardly ever play it anyway because I'm trying not to bother her because the sound carries so much here. Music is a big part of my life. And I feel so alone here with nobody to care about me. If I could just work on my music during reasonable hours (not when people want to sleep of course!), maybe it would help me out of this despondency and depression I have. I don't have the money to have to hire a place in town where I could practice for a few hours. I am on limited income, and it takes all I get just to pay my rent, buy food, pay the light bill, and the phone bill. Plus it's away from town so it takes money for bus fare also. I could walk, but I just don't have the energy right now to walk an hour to town and back. My relatives still don't care about me. They will not elaborate as to why. Yes I've asked them. My aunt just puts up a wall and does not want to discuss it!
I feel so unwanted and unloved I don't think I can go on much longer. Seeing a psychiatrist or a psychologist is not going to help me. Even if I wanted to see someone (dr), they only offer me the SSRI's and they do not help me. Yes I've tried them before, for months, with no relief to my depression. I've asked my doctor (in the past when I saw her) to prescribe the old treatments of depression that I used to be on when I was a teenager and in my 20s - medication that she herself had me on when I was 32. I did not abuse these medications, so I see no reason for her reticence. At least an Elavil or a Sinequan would help me to get some more sleep. I'm not opposed to drug therapy, just to the newer drug therapies, which never helped me.
I've run out of people to/that care(d) about me.
So I guess judging from that absence, I must be a pretty worthless human being. I know I'm a boring human being. Well I was told something to the effect a few years ago that people in general, if they have a home, food, and other necessities, that unless a person like myself who wanted to visit, was "entertaining" to them, then they would not see the need or be motivated to have me in their home or have a friendship with me. I forget the exact words. But the word "entertain" or "entertainment" - something like that, was in what they told me.
I've tried everything I can think of. I've tried being nice. I've tried joking around. I've tried being more compassionate. I've tried doing things for people. One lady just two days ago said they didn't want me to stay overnight anymore, but when I pressed them to tell me what it was I did or said wrong or whatever it was they didn't like about me - had I behaved wrongly in their home when I stayed overnight - all this they said "negative" - that I "hadn't done or said anything or behaved wrong/ly".
To me, hospitality is a great need. I don't have much of a place here. I don't have a couch or sofa (can't afford one right now). I have a few old kitchen chairs. But....I've told people I know (not aquaintances or strangers), please drop by anytime. You don't need to call first, just come and ring the doorbell and I'll let you in. You're always welcome. We can have a cup of tea/coffee and some sweets. Stay for supper, that sort of thing. Nothing. Nobody drops by. They won't tell me why not. I haven't said anything mean to them. People just don't like me. And I'm tired of trying. Hence my signature.
I'm not eating right. I eat yes. But I'm slacking in it. If nobody loves me, then I don't deserve to live. I wish (apologies to those who don't believe in God - I'm not preaching, I promise you that, and I never will) that God would just let me die in my sleep because I have nothing to live for. I'm not going to call Chimo or some other suicide prevention line. I've called them before. They were no help to me. One of them, when I told them how I was sure I was a failure, berated me over the phone. I know you probably want details. I can't remember the specifics of what she said. It wasn't "well you better get a job" nothing like that. She just spoke rudely to me, but I just can't remember her words, that's all. I have chronic fatigue as well as the depression, and I've developed arthritis in my knees and legs. I get stiff and sore, esp in the morning. Wednesday, when I was over town, I went only to the bookstore with the cat, the drugstore, and the library - all within a 10 minute walking distance/radius (whatever). I've walked longer than that before. I know the knee/leg pain is not from that amount of walking, which was not a lot. At the library, I read some, alternating with getting up and browsing around a little. Again, not a taxing amount of walking. When I left the library to go catch the bus to come back to this apartment, I was stiff and sore again, even had pain in the feet/ankles.
I hope this isn't too presumptuous of me to ask? - Can I at least count you guys as my friends? I already consider you that anyway. I need to be accepted (((someplace))). I could use a hug too, even if it's just online.
This was not hard to type, but difficult to express. I know I'm not very popular on here. Probably didn't need to put the word "very".
Whoever I've hurt (if I have) on here in the past, can't it please be water under the bridge? I hope I've demonstrated by my posts in more recent years on here, that I have no intention of being either preachy or rude. So whoever I offended in the past, can I please have a clean slate (I'm referring to my posts under the old screenname "alwaysalone" in which I did not always express myself to others in a genial way).
I felt the need to post something here because I feel a similar way to some of you who have posted regarding your own depression troubles.
My primary depression/despondency is that I feel unwanted and unloved by people -friends, relatives, etc. and I don't know if I can or want to go on living. I'm still at the "considering" stage, atm. No plans have been made at this time. I cry a lot. How I wish I could go back to the 70s and 80s when I was wanted and loved - at least by my parents, who've both been deceased since the 90s. I know I'm probably "too old" to feel like this, wishing for parents to be alive for emotional support, but it's how I feel. I know they cared for and loved me. I've tried to make friends. But they just use me for whatever they can get from me (not so much now because my apartment and bills and all that takes all my income) - but before, when I was in the roominghouse, and had more money to spare, they used me, and when they got what they wanted, they spurned my friendship. It would have at least given me some sort of "closure" if they would have at least told me why they didn't want to spend time with me. One would "cosy up to me" to borrow money or food, I'd think: oh she's changed her mind and wants to be friends (well she'd act like my friend for a few days so it was hard to tell), then after about a few days to a week, she'd turn all aloof toward me. This cycle was repeated many times during the year 2012-2013. I couldn't even get her to spend a little time with me the day I was moving out!!! If I was friends with someone, and they were moving out, I'd be spending whatever time I could with the person, til they left the building! So now I don't know who to trust. I thought I could trust this person. So many people have let me down. I try so hard to make amends (for the sake of a friendship I mean), to apologize, etc. but it does no good. Even on facebook, I have a small group of "friends" only 20 some. But I think they just clicked on my name to add to their friends list. Some of them have 500 or 1000 friends! They get on there and talk to each other, and ignore me!!! And they won't tell me why. Oh I might get a "like" to one of my facebook updates once in awhile. I don't care about stuff like that!!! I want somebody to talk to me. One of them who I think the world of, I sent them 100 dollars (when I had extra savings) because she had some catching up to do with bills. I can't even get to talk to her on the telephone. I told her, I'll pay the long distance charges. Just give me a telephone number to call. She used her father's cellphone and informed me she wasn't allowed to give the number out. I said (her father knows me - they all do: I haven't had bad relations with that family) - ask your dad if I can have the number. I promise I will not give it out to anyone. Nothing. I am not/was not known for giving out private information, nor am/was I known for being a gossip. She knows my number as I'd given it to her last year or the year before (I forget). Yes they have that right. But it hurts, that's all. Because I'm a fairly
open person. Hospitable. There are things I'm more reserved about in my life, because of the shame I feel for having failed in life (joblessness, my divorce, etc. stuff like that). But generally, as far as my addresses, telephone numbers, that sort of thing, to my friends who have known me for years, this stuff's theirs for the asking!
I've given what I could/all I could - if they told me they needed more, if I had it, I would give it. I'm tired. All I want to do is sleep. I wish I could sleep forever without any pain to myself since my whole life has been a waste. I'm a waste. I feel sorry for the street people. I will end up just like them. I "am" them. Just temporarily I have a roof over my head. I'm no different from them is what I mean.
I apologize for the length of this. Please feel free to skip any parts as I know I get longwinded.
Thanks for reading.