I have lost the will to live
I’m not suicidal except that I am, I think? I have lost the will to live.
This post discusses suicidal thoughts & ideation. Please read with caution.
That’s not the technical term for it, of course, but I’m not sure what I’m feeling even has as term. Or label. Or succinct words to explain what I’m experiencing.
I’m not sure when it happened exactly; when I stopped living and started to exist, I don’t even know why, but here I am. Sat staring at my laptop screen in the dark, with another drink in my had wondering when this happened to me? Why I have a family, friends and a job I enjoy but still don’t feel grateful, or happy. Why I still feel so hopeless and alone. Why I can’t be the “hero” people tell me I am.
No one knows I’m dealing with all this; I’m the one strong one. The one my family relies on. The one all my colleagues come to when they’re struggling. I’m the one who’s always got a smile on my face. Except I’m a fraud and a hypocrite. I’m telling people to talk and that there’s support available, whilst not seeking it myself, or believing anyone can help me. Telling people it’s not weak to ask for help, whilst believing I am weak for feeling this way and not being able to fix myself. How can I have a family, good mates and cracking job and still feel like this? I look around and everyone’s got their shit together. They all look so happy, but not me. I’ve got everything I could ever want and it still doesn’t feel enough to fill this void.
It’s not that I’m suicidal, it’s just that I’m apathetic about dying which, I suppose, amounts to the same thing. I don’t have the energy to kill myself so I sometimes wish someone or something would do it for me. I sit in my car, trying to work out the speed I’d need to kill myself, driving into a wall. If the height of a bridge is enough to kill me, or just smash my body. I sometimes day dream about how to kill myself without it looking like a suicide, so my family won’t have to deal with the shame of me. I’m already enough of a burden as it is. My death might be the best thing I could do for them…
I’m not sure how many drinks in I’m on. Is this my 3rd? 6th? I don’t even know how many days straight I’ve been drinking for. Maybe the next one will help me forget a little more, feel a little less. I’ve been to work and worked out etc. but I can’t remember when I last showered. I think it was a few days ago? Did I remember to eat today? Yes, there’s dishes in the sink. How can I “be the helper” and command scenes but can’t remember if I brushed my teeth this morning? My mates ask if I’ve caught up with Line of Duty, and I tell them I’ve been too busy, but the reality is that I’m watching the same shit I’ve seen dozens of times, because I don’t have the attention span for anything new.
A regular kind of call comes in; suspected suicide, and sometimes I’m jealous! Despite comforting families over the years when they’ve lost their loved ones, I’m jealous and pissed off that he’s had the balls to kill himself and I’m still here. And then I hate myself for such selfish thoughts when I have a life many would want.
Because what am I supposed to say? That I have a great life and still can’t be happy with my lot? How can I justify feeling so apathetic about life, about my life, when nothing’s wrong with it? I know people have it worse than me because I witness examples of it daily; I just don’t have the energy to try and justify and explain my emotions, when I don’t really understand them myself and feel guilty wanting support when so many others are more deserving of it than me.
I often see people tell those struggling that “tomorrow is another day”, and I know they mean well but I don’t want tomorrow to come. I don’t want another fucking day of this, where I feel everything and nothing simultaneously. Tomorrow is nothing but Groundhog Day where I have to pretend that I’m fine when I’m everything but. Another day where I dodge the “how are you?” questions or simply say “I’m good”, when I feel so very far from it.
I lay awake at night thinking of all the mistakes I’ve made or regrets that I have. The relationships I broke because I was too blind to see home was more important than work. The scenes and calls I can’t get out of my head, wondering “what if”. All whilst feeling anxious about, and dreading, another tomorrow. Of having to wake up and do this all again, with another smile plastered on my face. I can’t remember ever feeling this trapped between a past that haunts me, a future that terrifies me and a present that pains me.
Tomorrow I will get out of bed, get dressed and go to work because I know that I should, and it’s expected of me. I’ll take command when appropriate, support where I can and smile when I don’t want to, but I’m a ghost living in an empty shell and I can’t decide what’s worse; feeling nothing or everything.
I feel like I died and nobody noticed.
I have lost the will to live;
but I’ll smile through it.
It’s what I do best.
Anon.
If you have been effected by anything written in this piece, please remember that there are professionals and organisations that can help you, even if you don’t feel your thoughts and feelings make sense. Your doctor is a good place to start but there is also CALM and Andy’s Man Club, for men specifically or Samaritans and Give Us A Shout. You’re not alone, gents.
We also run a virtual cuppa for men in our Blue Light services, every Thursday 1900-2100. It’s peer-lead, confidential and your services aren’t informed of your attendances. Please get in touch to find out more.
