Don't grieve alone; 14,000 members and growing
I have been struggling with a Major Depressive Disorder for a very long time and have been to numerous psychiatrists searching for help all to no avail. Some time ago I found out that for a period of about twelve years I had Hep C and never knew that I had it, until I began feeling sick everyday. I went to a doctor and was told that in the time I didn't know I had it, the virus had ravaged my liver and that my only hope was a transplant. My insurance company agreed that as a last ditch effort they would authorize one of the new twelve week drug regimens at a cost of $130,000. Unfortunately it didn't change anything. The town I live in is a small rural town that I moved to about ten hears ago because of a suggestion by my oldest sister. Initially I found a job but that ended very quickly because of a downturn in the economy. The job required me to travel out of state frequently and as a result I never had the time to make any friends. Now due to how sick I feel on a daily basis I very rarely leave my bedroom. I no longer have a car, that on good days I could at least go for a ride to break up the monotony but as I said that's gone now. I never knew that loneliness could be so physically painful, it actually hurts. I have no family support, or support from anyone else. One of my biggest fears has been that I will die alone with no one here that could at least hold my hand and tell me everything is going to be okay. I know that doesn't sound very macho of me, but at this point I really don't care about that anymore. I had wasted nearly twenty years of my life because of a drug addiction and subsequent incarceration. I served nineteen years, four months of that 20 year sentence when I was younger, time I can never get back. It wasn't for anything violent, but rather for an accumulation of drug crimes. When I was released I had many hopes and dreams that I would like to have accomplished, but now it's far too late for those things. When you get to my age and look back over your life and realize that you've wasted nearly all of it, well the pain of that is unimaginable. Today, I want to end this unbearable loneliness and the pain of a completely wasted life. I can't find the sense to keep going, hoping against hope that maybe I'll get a transplant especially when I know full well that they won't waste a perfectly good liver on the likes of me. Even my doctors have told me that the chances are very slim. Please if there is anyone out there who can give me the strength to go on for a while longer, please let me know, Please?
Doug, I just read your post and I am so sorry that you have such a heavy burden of what life was and is. Since my husbands death I've been on a quest to answer so many questions that seem to lead me to dead ends. I can wonder why, even in your case, certain things happen to certain people and did we really have as much choice as we thought? Looking for the reasons and answers for this and so much else, daily, I have an existential crisis wrapped inside another existential crisis. Looking back and living in the present I feel like I was fooled into believing I lived in reality and yet I am not sure whether I didn't then, and don't now, wake up in a different universe every day. It all feels so surreal. It's like the whole progression of life was written before I got here and for whatever reason I have to follow the script.
All this is to say I am only here on this site now because my own depression/sorrow/grief in how the way things turned out for me allows me to walk alongside you and understand better how when we reach out we never know who or what might be there to help us withstand the brunt of the unknowns. If there is anything that brings me to reflect on my own situation is when I hear others who are dealing with seemingly worse trauma and circumstances though it never seems to help me when I am crawling towards my own hole.
I also think it is inspiring that you have continued to try to find ways to live and are willing to ask for help. Its hard to do that. That you came on here to share your grief speaks volumes of a strength you may have missed when you look in the mirror. I hope that whatever the universe has written out for you makes your burden lighter.
October 22nd, 2012, my elder son was told he had late-stage Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Massive tumour on his right lung. Inoperable. Long story short: he went through HELL and he died just a month later. No counselling has ever been offered. I've been left, alone to deal with the loss. I STILL try to deal with it. Alone.