ON MEANING – Creating a Life Worth Living, How Others Can Help

 

REFLECTION FROM MARCH 1ST, 2009**

RE:  THE EFFECTS OF MENTAL-ILLNESS STIGMA AND DISCRIMINATION – HAVING TO HIDE MY TRUE-SELF, AND IN THE PROCESS, LOSING EVERYTHING TO BELIEVE IN.

WRITTEN 3/1/2009 @ AGE 27

I feel shitty tonight.  I feel like my life is meaningless and worthless.  I guess I know that my life brings meaning and joy to others, but they are few in number and in the scheme of things, I doubt I bring them all that much joy to begin with.  Or, I guess in comparison with how meaningless and hopeless my life feels.

I had to go back on Seroquel so that I can wean off of it.  Stupid idea to do otherwise with medications that f-ck with your brain, which I found out (again) yesterday when I felt sick to my stomach all day.  My life just sucks.  My life sucks because I don’t have one.  I’m supposed to be young and going out and having fun being with people and meeting my soulmate and for some reason, that’s just too hard for me to accomplish.  I just keep thinking about my cousin who’s my age who’s getting married this summer.  Who goes to Harvard.  Who comes from a family of intellectual snobs and is no doubt one herself.  But what’s so wrong with smart people wanting to hang out with smart people who “get” them?  Nothing really.  I just hate my life.  Nothing new to say about it – I just hate it.  And I’m about to hate it even more going off my mind-numbing medications.

I don’t know, it was so nice what everyone did for me for the bar exam.  They all knew what a big deal it was that I was taking it finally, and they all remembered me and made it known.  I just wish people could do that on a regular basis.  Maybe my life wouldn’t feel so meaningless if so.  Christopher and Aaliyah try really hard to help me out and I love them so much for doing so, but it’s so hard trying to get help from people whose lives are so meaningful.  It’s hard trying to get help from all of my friends and family whose lives are so meaningful.  I really don’t have anything new at all to say.  I just feel like shit is all.  Surprise surprise.

I was thinking earlier though – what if there is someone else as lonely as I am out there on this Earth?  And I know misery loves company, so maybe that’s why they might like reading my book.  Because it’s about everyday misery that people hide because we think no one wants to hear about it – because everyone else is too busy living their meaningful lives to have the time to hear about it — because I don’t want to bother anyone with it, with my tears.  Maybe that’s why someone might be interested…

**THIS BLOG CONTAINS POSTINGS OF REAL-TIME JOURNAL ENTRIES AS THEY RELATE TO THE OVERALL PURPOSE OF THIS BLOG.  AS SUCH, PLEASE NOTE THAT ANY POST MARKED AT THE TOP WITH A “REFLECTION” DATE WAS WRITTEN ON THE REFLECTION DATE, NOT ON THE DATE IT WAS POSTED TO THIS BLOG.  IN ADDITION, PLEASE NOTE THAT NAMES AND OTHER DETAILS HAVE BEEN CHANGED TO PROTECT THE PRIVACY OF THOSE REFERENCED WITHIN.  FOR MORE INFORMATION, PLEASE VISIT MY DISCLAIMER PAGE.

Thoughts?

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