First and foremost: CL, you're a good person. I know how easy it is to be in an internalized negative feedback loop, and how much it sucks. I'm no psychologist, but you know how to reach me if you just need someone to listen.
I feel worthless most of the time. I can't describe how frustrating it is to have to rely on someone else for nearly everything. Bathing, bathroom stuff, clothing, medication, etc. The persistence of things always being out of reach, or, even worse, in the way blocking my wheelchair. Have you ever been physically restrained? Imagine it 24/7, affecting all your limbs. Multiply it by 37+ years.
Even better, I can't work. Well, I can work, but I rely on Medicaid for my living situation. Medicaid is based on income, meaning that if I make any kind of real income, it goes away. And with the secondary issues related to my primary disability (pressure sores because I can't sit at a straight 90 degrees, so I'm always shearing skin off) and late onset type 1 diabetes (most of the males on my mom's side get it in their 30's regardless of lifestyle... Thanks, mom!), I simply wouldn't be able to work consistently enough to make up for what I'd lose.
With all that, I'm 100% undesirable with the ladies. And unlike (in most cases) weight, hygiene, appearance, etc., there's nothing I can do to fix the problem. I can't work to be less disabled. I'm not going to suddenly be able to go to the bathroom without help, or anything else.
Real talk: I have, at times, thought that things would be objectively better for those I care about if I was dead. That, yeah, they'd be sad for a while, but eventually they'd get over it. And I would no longer be burdening them.
I want to be really clear here. I've never been literally suicidal. I'm a wuss when it comes to pain, and I'm one of the seemingly few atheists that fears death (no more awareness freaks me the fuck out), but it's hard to argue that my winning personality is worth the emotional, physical, and financial drain I inflict on those I care about.
Because of all of this, I have a real hard time believing that people may actually like me. There's always this level of distrust or paranoia that they're really just tolerating me because they have to, or because of social pressures and not wanting to be rude to a disabled guy. A lot of the time, my inner monologue is poison, and my snarky facade is just armor. Even with the very few people I consider true friends.
Hooray dysfunction!
I feel worthless most of the time. I can't describe how frustrating it is to have to rely on someone else for nearly everything. Bathing, bathroom stuff, clothing, medication, etc. The persistence of things always being out of reach, or, even worse, in the way blocking my wheelchair. Have you ever been physically restrained? Imagine it 24/7, affecting all your limbs. Multiply it by 37+ years.
Even better, I can't work. Well, I can work, but I rely on Medicaid for my living situation. Medicaid is based on income, meaning that if I make any kind of real income, it goes away. And with the secondary issues related to my primary disability (pressure sores because I can't sit at a straight 90 degrees, so I'm always shearing skin off) and late onset type 1 diabetes (most of the males on my mom's side get it in their 30's regardless of lifestyle... Thanks, mom!), I simply wouldn't be able to work consistently enough to make up for what I'd lose.
With all that, I'm 100% undesirable with the ladies. And unlike (in most cases) weight, hygiene, appearance, etc., there's nothing I can do to fix the problem. I can't work to be less disabled. I'm not going to suddenly be able to go to the bathroom without help, or anything else.
Real talk: I have, at times, thought that things would be objectively better for those I care about if I was dead. That, yeah, they'd be sad for a while, but eventually they'd get over it. And I would no longer be burdening them.
I want to be really clear here. I've never been literally suicidal. I'm a wuss when it comes to pain, and I'm one of the seemingly few atheists that fears death (no more awareness freaks me the fuck out), but it's hard to argue that my winning personality is worth the emotional, physical, and financial drain I inflict on those I care about.
Because of all of this, I have a real hard time believing that people may actually like me. There's always this level of distrust or paranoia that they're really just tolerating me because they have to, or because of social pressures and not wanting to be rude to a disabled guy. A lot of the time, my inner monologue is poison, and my snarky facade is just armor. Even with the very few people I consider true friends.
Hooray dysfunction!
"I was thirsty for everything, but blood wasn't my style" - Live, "Voodoo Lady"
