Sometimes I wonder if my mom sees my sister as her success, the one child who turned out just like her and isn’t a huge disappointment. It’s hard to believe that mom doesn’t see me as a disappointment, when everything I do seems to earn her ire.

Sometimes I wonder what life would be life if I wasn’t struggling all the time with this illness. If I could just be well, except for the occasional flu. Would I be as creative? Would I be making more money? Would I be happily married by now?

Sometimes I wonder why I’m still here, or why I am here in the first place. I feel like a mismatched part, like I don’t belong in my family, in my city, in my life. Like I am some sort of hitchhiker in my own head, just along for the ride.

Sometimes I wonder if I would be remembered, if I were to commit suicide. If it would be a relief, to not have that uncertainty about me anymore, knowing that I’m at peace, when peace was so fleeting when I was alive.

Lately I’ve been wondering and worrying about my cat, and trying to come up with a contingency plan for what to do if she doesn’t make it through the surgery. Currently it’s possibly going to the hospital, because I’m not sure what I’ll do. The vet called this morning- I’m writing this on Saturday- to remind me of her appointment, and I just cried afterwards. I received a donation with a beautiful message attached to it. I just started to bawl when I read this:

“In memory of my darling little kitty, Samara, who passed away on 4/19/13. Please accept this modest gift to help your wonderful Chihiro to continue with a healthy, happy life. Also sending our love and best wishes for Chihiro’s recovery. Your friends, Cari and Samara’s lifelong litter mate and companion, Monte Carlos.”

I just… I can’t even. Her cat died the day before she donated $25 to my cat. Here I am thinking how useless I’m going to be if my cat doesn’t pull through the surgery, and this lovely woman has just lost her own cat and is able to turn around and donate to mine. I’m crying again just thinking about it.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll EVER manage to get another job. I got a letter from the place I had two interviews at, turning me down for the job. I keep applying places and not hearing back. It’s so disheartening. I just… I just don’t care anymore. My mom and I had another conversation about me starting a disability claim, and it just feels so much like giving up. Here I am, 29, unemployed, too depressed to function most days, wanting so badly to work but not able to find a job, and even if I DO find one, how long will I last this time?

Sometimes I wonder if everyone would be better off if I just wasn’t here anymore.



Filed under Now

2 responses to “Wonderings

  1. You WILL be okay, these things take time and lots of it at that – you are not a failure, you are strong for sharing your experiences to help others out in cyberspace. Going on disability could give you some time to recuperate and look after yourself and your cat. Take your time to feel strong again, you are not a failure in any way because bipolar hasn’t beaten you. I am depressed, and I thought I was okay enough to get a job (which I have since lost, after like 3 days of work) and it is hard to understand and it is frustrating but we can do it and we can get better. We can.

    Other bloggers like me who find the openness and honesty and bravery in your voice inspirational, DO care. There are things worth living for, just when things get bad they seem to disappear – we are here behind the depression-fog, to help and listen.
    Take care,

    • Thank you. It’s hard to stay positive, but I’m glad people are reading and taking something from my blog. It’s nice to not be alone, even when the illness tells you that you are.

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