Goodbye again

I have decided that I have terrorized this board with my little problems for long enough. I will not be talking about them any more.

Everyone seems to think my problems are bigger than anyone else's. They are pathetically small, because my problem affects only me and no one else, unless I choose to disturb someone else with it. This I have done since May and it's time I stopped.

The problem with my problem is that it's in my face 24 hours a day and there's no escape from it. If something small is in your face all the time, it looks huge to the person being attacked, but not so huge to someone else.

I should just keep my mouth shut and let this pain bore into me. I can do that; bear the pain without disturbing anyone. There is nothing I can do for it anyway and yapping about it isn't helping. Writing poetry isn't helping. Writing to Doug isn't helping. I should just crawl into bed and keep my mouth shut until I see a surgeon. I should keep my mouth shut for good. The world will go on just fine if I were to disappear. I won't bother you or anyone else with my problems. They don't matter anyway. It doesn't matter that I'm lonely, but it's easy to see why. I yap too much about my problems.

It's really nothing to me. Pain is nothing new to me. It's getting boring actually. I have nothing to yap or suicide about. My pain only affects me, it doesn't affect anyone else. No one else is going to suffer from it, so I should just shut up and see that they don't suffer.

My loneliness doesn't affect anyone else either, so why should Doug be concerned? It's all about me, me, me, and I should shut up before it's too late. Why should a saint care for that matter either? I'm just some disabled brat on welfare, like a thousand disabled brats on welfare with nothing to offer the world.The world won't stop if I were to disappear tonight, there would be just one more apartment for someone to take. Someone else would get my stuff (which doesn't amount to much) and life would go on.

Ask the government if it gives a hoot if I have a job or not. Chances are, they don't care. If I were to disappear, it would save them a mess of money.

I have no children to provide for, no husband, so why not disappear? I can just go into radio silence and none of you will have to listen to me yap on and on. Other people are getting on with their lives on this board, I should too. Except I don't have a life that's worth the toilet paper I wipe my butt with.

That's the most pathetic thing I've ever heard. The sad thing is, it's my own stinking fault. There is a quadraplegic MP sitting in the House of Commons. That could be me. But I'm too busy wallowing in self-pity to give a hoot. I wasted my life for 11 years and have now been rewarded for my efforts. I slept for that period of time and now I can stay in bed for the rest of my life, because God has determined that that's what I want to do. Just lie there and wallow.

I think that enough energy has been wasted on me and my problems. Personally, the energy spent by my mother bringing me into the world was a waste. I did not deserve the effort spent raising me, or should I say grief? I repaid their efforts by walking out on them. I am getting just what I deserve for that: Physical pain for the rest of my life. It's pain that affects no one else, which is why so little effort has been put into controlling it.

I'm just some wench who flunked out of university and that was my own fault too. Why should anyone care what happens to me now?

My writing's no great shakes either. I just write about pain and suffering and suicide. No one gives a hoot! No editor would read it and neither would anyone else. I deserve to go broke in the writing game. I'm just some hack who sits up all night, juiced on morphine and writing this stuff. No one would give my work a second look.

Why should anyone care that it hurts too much to get dressed? The sun will still come up in the morning. Life goes on. It doesn't affect anyone else, so why am I making it someone else's problem by writing to Doug about it? It's not like I'm dying from it or I'm going to die from it. I am going to live a long, miserable, pathetic, lonely life and the only one that it will affect will be me. SO WHY BOTHER ANYONE WITH IT????? Why even pray about it? Why even get up out of bed any more? The pain will take care of itself if I stay in bed. No one expects that much of me anyway. I'm just some disabled brat on welfare, There are a thousand like me and we won't amount to a dime in this life. So why should you care? I don't matter. You all have families or will one day. I will never have anyone and it's my own bloody fault.

I made this bed. Now let me lie in it. Pretend I never came here. Pretend I don't exist. Everyone else does.

There is a thing more crippling than cerebral palsy: the prison of your own mind.
<div class="foot">(Edited by hamstergirl on 08/15/04 10:50 PM.)</div>

good luck and best wishes


<div class="foot">(Edited by Fuzzybear on 08/16/04 06:42 AM.)</div>

Just so you know, I never thought you were a burden. I will miss you. You helped me a lot, and I'm sure you've helped others here, too. I hope one day you do feel better about yourself.

(((((((((((Hamstergirl))))))))))

I wish I knew how to get thru. to you and make it matter that we have come to care about you. Why isn't THAT important enough for you to stay around?

Every single human soul MATTERS more than anything else in the whole world. And YOU have gifts that you share, especially when you are trying to be of help to someone else on the board.

Why are you questioning/discounting the value of other people's caring for you? Doug cares for you very much. Why do you not HONOR that?

Surely you know that a person's value does NOT lie in their physical body, or how much income they make.

YOU have complete control over the love that is in your heart and how/with whom you will share it.

I hope you will reconsider this decision, because I don't think you really want to leave (do you?).

I don't really know how to express what I am thinking/feeling.

<font color=blue>HI FROM PEANUT</font color=blue>

HG -- I am so sorry that you are in such emotional, physical, and spiritual pain.

I hope that you will come to feel that we on the list need you and that you need us. It doesn't matter if you're not Shakespeare -- you articulate things that others are feeling and can't express because of our own breakdowns and slipping. Like the lyrics to the song "Strumming my heart with his fingers"

It doesn't matter than you dropped out of college. Many people who become very successful do, as well as those who just find that it's not their tea. For example, plumbers and electricians go through apprentice programs, develop a technical skill, and make good money peforming valuable service. Our country has oversold college education.

Third, most writers cannot earn a living at it. The pay is pitiful, that's why I got out. They are driving cabs and waiting tables and hoping for their big break, which is about as likely for most of us as winning the lottery.

There are writers who write about their pain, however. IHere are three titles: haven't read any of these books but just remember them from book reviews I've read along the way.


Full Catastrophe Living -- John Kabat Zinn

Comment about book from barnesandnoble.com reader: Scott Osmond (Sosmond@gsfdrill.com), A reviewer, August 13, 2003,
A Must Read For Depressed People
I've been battling depression most of my life since childhood getting worse through adulthood. At 35 years I feel I've finally found a tool that gives me the confidence to keep it at bay in the long term without pills and medications. If you are depressed or anxious, you MUST READ and follow this book and give it a chance. You'll find relief in a fraction of the time you would otherwise by starting Prozac. Also, you need to buy the tapes to go with the book. The book is an important guide as to how to use the tapes

I'm Dancing as Fast as I Can -- Barbara Gordon. Story of her mental breakdown from depression and recovery

His Bright Light: Nick Traina -- Danielle Steel. Her son was a manic-depressive and died at age 19. Her tribute to him.

I stumbled onto a website where people have blogs. There is a monthly membership fee (not much, I think around $5-$6 bucks) BUT you get money back when other subscribers of the list read your posts. It's not much, but it might be nice, if you can afford, to get that affirmation of knowing that others are reading your work.

If you are interested in blogging, there is at least one person on this list who is doing it and may know about it than I.

Venting is good for us, and we on this list are good listeners, I think.

As for people believing you are worse off than the rest of us, personally, I never got that subtext out of anything I've read here, but maybe there are posts from before when I came on that say that.

Depression and pain is a great equalizer. We all hurt no matter what our material situation. I fear being in a situation of physical helplessness, and I think most of us do. There's a sense that we can fix joblessness or needing a home or a spouse or more friends or being able to experience pleasure again. But one can't fix what happened to you.

Whine away, my dear, and we will hug you and love you. You are part of the Depression Forum family.

So I hope you will be back, Shelley. I value your contributions.

What I really want to walk away from is all these horrific medical decisions. They will be taking me apart again in short order and there's nothing I can do to stop it. The next best thing I can do then, is either move to Toronto or to leave this board. Because I can't leave my body when they start hacking into it again. I wish people knew how badly scared I am by this. Even the simplest surgery would frighten me.

Dippy's boyfriend is on a respirator and she was trying to think about something else, because the boyfriend's family tried to make some medical decisions without her. She was thinking about my cats and then she thought: "Who is going to make these decisions on Shelley's behalf? She has no one." What really concerned her is that if I were unconscious, decisions about me would be made by my parents, by law. And she knows that is something that I would not like.

So she was telling me about all this, and I've been real depressed ever since. Because I'm convinced that if they put me out, I will wind up dead or severely brain damaged. Or that some doctor will hear how depressed I am and then decide not to revive me. It's been known to happen. My disability does matter. People have screamed at me and abandoned me because of it. It has kept me from employment and from an equal opportunity at an education. I could have gone to any university I wanted on the basis of my marks, but my wheelchair limited me to only one choice in the end: a place 600 km away from my family, including my brothers and sister. I'm living here now.

I want to honour my friendship with Doug. But I can only give him words and he can only give me words. I can not hold his hand or put my arms around him. He lives too far away. I can not put my arms around any of you. You all live too far away. In a way, that was a deliberate choice. But it was made because I fear being abused so much.

I have so much love in my heart to give. I want to be loved so badly. I want to be held and hugged. I'm crying half the time because I'm hurting just from that. To be alone when you are so lonely, yet so afraid of being abused.

The pain from being alone is too much to bear. Yet I must bear it, because I will be abused if I can't bear the loneliness.

I have tried to fill in the void thru the Internet, but it is not working. I need to be able to hug someone in my life. The need for that is so strong that I probably won't be able to let go. You all live so far away, so there's not much you can do but give me words.

Words are wonderful, but you can only live off them for so long. At some point, you need real human contact and I don't have that.

I am withering and dying without it. In fact, I doubt I will make it through my next operation, feeling like this. This was why I wanted to move to Toronto, so I would have at least one real human in my life. But fear of my father quashed that.

In fact, part of me hopes that I don't survive my next operation, because I can't go on like this.

I guess you are having trouble expressing yourself because you want to strangle me out of frustration. I bet Doug feels like that too sometimes.

There is a thing more crippling than cerebral palsy: the prison of your own mind.

W2F

If writing pays pitifully, then so does living on a disability pension. In fact, writing pays so little, I need not worry about losing my drug card, because I earned "too much".

Writing is my one chance at making it. I do not have the luxury of driving a cab or waiting on tables. I must live on the pittance that the government pays me to live off of.

My disability does matter to far too many people, namely the people who hire and fire. I must be overeducated for any job I take. I must prove that I am better than the other workers, to make up for my disability. Sad, but true.

The two simplest choices I have to make extra money are writing and taking a baseball hat in hand and begging in the street for spare change. Any other simple choices are illegal.

For me to get a job, I must constantly ask if I can get my wheelchair into that building and whether or not I can use the washroom. I must also be sure I am physically capable of doing the job; all without letting the employer know beforehand that I am disabled, because too often, they will not hire me. You only need look at me to figure out what the reason is 90% of the time. I must be far better than the other workers before they will even consider looking at my resume.

So things like joblessness really aren't in my control and neither is finding a spouse, because most men wouldn't take a second look at me, save as a sexual object.

Some people don't even think I am capable of living on my own outside an institution. They are shocked by the idea that disabled people can learn as the same classroom as "normal people" And they think "normal" means non-disabled. That's not true, look it up in the dictionary. But it hurts all the same.

In fact, I wonder if hurting is all I'll be able to do. Because most people seem willing to dish out the pain when they learn I am disabled. They may not think they are doing it, or that we are able to feel pain, but trust me, I am just as human as they are and just as able to feel pain.

I am just as able to feel love too, but I'll never get the chance to find that out for certain.

It makes a woman want to go out hunting for boats.

There is a thing more crippling than cerebral palsy: the prison of your own mind.

Take care, and please know I wish you lots of luck with whatever you decide to do or ode in life to take.
Best wishes

In giving advice seek to help, not please your friend
SOLON

(((((Hamstergirl)))) = Did you check out the CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy) techniques we talked about in chat? What did you think?

<font color=blue>HI FROM PEANUT</font color=blue>

I will miss you if you leave. Please hung around. If you don't want to post stuff for a while that is ok, but don't go. I like hearing from you.
I'm still hoping for that seat for your wheelchair.

gab

Dear Shelley --

Gosh, words can be ornery. I by no means meant to imply that your disease doesn't create unbearable limitations.

As I read your complaint -- and I guess I read it wrongly, I'm sorry -- I though you were angry because people on the list treated you as if you were worse off *in terms of depression* than we are, and you didn't like that.

Employers discriminate -- against the overweight, against people who are less attractive, older, and certainly -- have a disability. There is plenty of research on this.

I have been looking for ways to make money using my computer and writing, and I'm investigating a possibility. If you want info, plz send private email. Won't bore people here.

My heart and my prayers are yours, and I hope you won't leave the list, and that you will find an outlet for your considerable talents that satisfies your creativity and self-respect and brings the rewards you need.

Hugs, hugs, hugs.

People don't seem very tolerant in Canada.

I know that theory is very different to practice, but in Britain it's all very pro-disability and people who are disabiled are (supposedly) given equal rights when it comes to a job (I don't know whether it' strue or not since I have never experienced it).

Howver those who feel they were refused a job on account of their disability despite their other merits can take the company to court and sue them, if they have a case.

Cannot you do that?

_____________________
RIP Dexter...
<font color=red>The best dog ever!!!</font color=red>

<font color=green>In the real dark night of the soul it is always three o'clock in the morning.</font color=green>
- F. Scott Fitzgerald