Enough

I won't do a an introduction post. I am tired of the repitition of doing so to psychologists, psychiatrists and on forums. Anxiety/depression from childhood through to my 50's sums it up. Countless therapy sessions and medications. Utterly useless trends such as CBT, mindfulness by well meaning, earnest therapists wasting my time on pointless quests to "help" me. Medications that come and go ... tricyclics, SSRIs etc devised on theories of what causes my illnesses, but ultimately all useless as a full understanding of the massive complexity of the brain does not exist as yet.

The only partial reief I have found is through sedatives and alcohol - simply because they inhibit my brain from functioning. Of course they are not solutions, they just help a bit.

For the last 10 years of my 50 year journey with illness I have been confined to my house. My little prison. Each day merges with the next. When I wake it is with a sense of disappointment that yet again I have woken. I realise I have to get through whatever number of hours I am awake until I can be unconscious again.

I think of those poor souls battling terminal illness struggling to either beat it or at least get as much time as they can. I understand that if life is of some value then you naturally want to get as much of it as you can.

But when consciousness is just misery it is logical to have had enough.

I can't do an act to end my life. It would inflict pain on my wife and that is out of the question.

So the pointlessness of each day goes on, and on, and on ... and nothing and nobody can make it any more tolerable than the pointless day that preceded it.