of suicide and crisis chat

I hit a low point last night.

I am so overwhelmed with this job search. I keep applying to jobs. I keep hearing nothing. Co-worker bought us DQ for lunch. I ate it, hoping it would at least bring some comfort. Hamburger and fries and ice cream. Comfort food right? 

I don't know when I'm going to figure out that food doesn't bring any comfort. Not any more.

Driving home, I felt so awful. About everything. My food choices for the day, my failure to find a new job. And those thoughts crept up on me. They crept up and then they blindsided me. 

Maybe it would be better for everyone if you just didn't exist anymore. Sure they'd be sad, they'd be heartbroken. But they'd get over it. You can't do anything right. What's the point? What's the point of trying? Just kill yourself already. What are you waiting for? 

They're always in the back of my mind. They always have been, for as long as I can remember. Usually they're pretty easy to push away, but not last night. I got home. I went straight to my bed where I curled into a ball and struggled to find a good reason to keep living.

Around midnight I felt panicky enough to try a crisis chat. Because I really hate talking on the phone. There's a disconnect between my head and my mouth. Words flow much smoother from my head to my fingers. 

I've done the crisis chat thing a few times, and I've come to an important decision. 

I think I'm too fucked up for crisis chat.

I was connected with Alex. Alex copy/pasted the answers he's been trained to give. And for some reason that always bugs me. I don't know what's wrong with me. These people are just there trying to help, and I voluntarily logged on to get their help, but I always end up kind of pissed off. I just want to reach through the computer and shake them. I want to yell at them to stop mindlessly repeating words and just TALK to me. 

A big part is that I'm too cynical. I can't let what they're saying help me because it feels so transparent to me. I felt like I could see Alex, probably sitting in his dorm room. He's probably a Sophomore Psychology major who tells his family that he just really wants to help people and doesn't really realize he's going to need a shit ton more schooling before he can really do that. I could see him sitting on a couch in his sweatpants, checking Facebook and copy/pasting textbook answers for the poor fucked up girl who wants to kill herself.

So I end up retreating behind sarcasm, behind macabre humor, just trying to get some reaction.  

Alex: What has helped you before when you've gotten these feelings?

Me: Well last time I relapsed back to being an anorexic because apparently I prefer the slow and steady method.

Silence.

Me: (that was a joke)

Silence.

There was a lot of silence. He was probably Facebook chatting with that hot girl from his Western Civilization class.

I filled the silence with ramblings for the most part. I tried to be honest, to get my feelings out so I could maybe go to sleep. But I just got tired of trying, tired of his robot replies, and steered myself towards being "all better." He picked up on that cue really quick (I'm sure he was relieved) and made his closing statement of, "Will you commit to making a Safety Plan?" I rolled my eyes and half heartedly gave him a few things I could do the next time I wanted to kill myself and then just said goodnight and logged off. 

I'm sorry that you got stuck dealing with me, Alex. I don't blame you. Not really. 

I guess I just want to have an honest conversation. I don't want to hear, "It is hard to feel pressured from expectations." I want someone to tell me, yeah, you're right. This world is really fucked up sometimes, and sometimes it's really hard to find reasons to keep going. I want someone to say that they've been there. That they get it. That they've reached that point where everything is too heavy, too much, and you're too numb. That they've sat on the floor of the bathroom and looked at the drawer that holds the sharp scissors and wondered idly if it would hurt. Maybe I just want someone to give me a magic answer that fixes everything, I don't know.

All I know is that I don't really feel any better. I've realized that the main thing, really my only reason left for staying alive is that I know it would destroy the Mr. if I killed myself. It would break his heart. So I'm mostly staying alive for him. Which is a reason, and it's a strong one. 

But maybe I want to find a reason to stay alive for me.