This is as close as I can get

I've tried for ages now to come up with a good description of how I feel after that SEVER MD episode I had a few years back. I've been up and down since, never really Normal but never as bad as that last (meds here and there are probably mostly responsible for keeping me from the bottom of the Pit). Yesterday, while discussing with a friend the despondency I've been feeling since recently being denied DL benefits (what I tell people is essentially a temporary disability) I came up with what seems to be to be the best analogy by far. Because I haven't ever felt that I 'got over' that (and yes, I know how melodramatic that sounds, still, it's the truth). It's like I was beaten to a bloody pulp (yeah, it's a little graphic, sorry)... and I never really healed from it. I'm not bloody any more (this is just an analogy for how it feels and has nothing to do with the SI I engage in), that's true, so it may be a little harder to tell or to believe that I am still not doing well. But I've not healed. I still feel tender and raw and extremely painful. Sometimes just simply movement hurts too much.

*shakes head* So there it is. It's not great... but I think it's pretty accurate. The closest I've gotten, at any rate.

Per Ardua

I have more than one tattoo. I've got more than one unconventional piercing as well (and by conventional I mean the single lobe piercing that most women have) if you really want to know. But it's the tattoos that concern me tonight. Specifically the one that reads, simply, Per Ardua. It is the McIntire (MacIntyre, or a few other spellings, take your pick) clan motto (my Great Grandmothers maiden name) and means through difficulties (or through adversities, which translation I myself prefer). Because I worry about giving too much identifying information over this blog I won't tell you where this tattoo is. Still I suppose even without that information the story bears mentioning, though the writing is probably more for my own benefit than for any of yours.

I'm feeling rather Awful, you see. At the same time I am almost just existing. Not the 'stare vacantly into space' just existing... I'm just... existing. Anyway tonight I had in mind to cut. Specifically I wanted to cut 'please'(I will draw the line at telling you where). 'Please, what?', you may ask. If only I knew. 'Please, let this all end'? 'Please, let me find a way to get the help I need, that I want'? 'Please, let me find the courage to take my life, thus ending this mess'? 'Please, can't everything just be better, normal'? *shakes head* I honestly don't know. Probably it is a combination of all those things. Whatever the meaning behind the word that was the plan and I had everything I needed to do it. And then I that tattoo. Per Ardua. Through difficulties, adversities. And I couldn't do it. Oh, don't get me wrong, I want to. There is something about the whole stupid thing that makes me want to cry even as I sit here writing this and I notice the razor blade on my kitchen table... and know I will not use it, even as I did not use the one earlier.

My clan motto. Per Ardua. Through difficulties, adversities. Well damnit if i am to be totally honest I am getting a little sick and tired of difficulties, sick and tired of adversities, sick and tired of getting through them. And yet here is one more difficulty, one more adversity that I will get through before the night is over, as small as it is. When will it be the last one? When will I finally be able to say, that's it, I'm through?

Damn tattoo.

Yes, I think it sounds stupid as well

Unfortunatly I just do not know what else to do. So I have applied for what amounts to a temporary disability of sorts. Please understand that I do not want to be a drain on society, though that is what I will become should I be awarded this assistance. But as I said before I honestly don't know what else to do. *shakes head at self in confusion and disgust* I haven't had any medication (for those of you who haven't read my blog before I have taken antidepressents in the past) for about two months because that which I had been taking was not working (though it seems to have been better than nothing as I am doing worse now *shrug*). I cannot afford to try new ones because I am out of work. And I've not worked for some months now (and before that something like six months or so without work) and that could hardly even be called part time (I worked four hours a day, Saturday and Sunday, for about three months). I don't really want to go into it all, it always sounds so stupid and melodramatic even to myself but at the same time I know that it is very real.

The real purpose of this entry, really, was simply to ask that you do whatever it is you do, be it pray or just send out good thoughts regarding this. I'm going to call on Wednesday to see if they've gotten the psych eval I had on the 29th of last month. I think they should. I actually expect that they'll tell me what they've decided when I call. And I'm really rather worried. Because as much as I dislike things like doctors appointments and therapy and the like I know that it has become necessary. I honestly want to be a functioning member of society. I'd like to have a job. I'd like to go back to school. I just need some help to get back to the point where I can do those things. I hate to say that. I sometimes loath myself for it. But that is where I am.