What is the point of life

[IrishBlue]

Well what is my story, I find myself as of 12 October 2015, wondering if life is actually worth living. I suppose I have suffered bouts of depression throughout my life and was able to mask it quite well with alcohol and work commitments. I have worked all my life, drifting from one job to another, until I found the job of my dreams in 1997, I had this job until 2009, when I was made redundant, this I brushed off, went to college and graduated with a first class honours degree in History and Politics. All in my life seemed to be going well, I was in my late 40s but I felt young and alive. I decided to study for a Masters in History, again far so good all seemed well, then the strangest thing happened I had a breakdown of sorts only I did not know what was going on.

I had created a facebook profile to keep in contact with friends, I used it to kill time between classes by looking up old friends, that was quickly exhausted, and then I started to look up ex-girlfriends, again so mundane. Then I tried to find the girlfriend I thought would have been the “ONE”. Only to find out she was married. I also started trying to contact my son whom I had with the same woman many years ago. We broke up almost 25 years ago acrimoniously, she left me for someone else and moved on.

I eventually tracked down my son who was 26 at the time, we made up and now have an excellent relationship, but the problems are not with him, they are with me. He is curious as to how me and his mother met, what life was like before he was born, all the things that kids ask. It started to open a dam of memories of the good times of the only time when for how ever brief it was I was truly happy or so I thought. I began to remember the terrible times, the arguments, the violence, the controlling, jealous behaviour on my part. And the horror when she left me for someone else and the bitterness it caused me. When I met my son, the bitterness evaporated and I thought I could just message his mom on facebook and she would forgive me and we would be a couple again. I started drinking heavily, on a daily basis, I would sit at the bar with my phone messaging my ex with all kinds of reasons why we should meet up for a chat. I thought she would see what a changed man I was and she would leave her husband for me.

She ignored my messages, this would frustrate me and I would drink more, I was getting drunk every single day. I wasn’t sleeping properly, my studies were beginning to suffer. I reached Christmas 2014 in just about one piece, then January 2015 opened and I reached a new low, I stopped showering, slept in the same clothes for the whole month, drank every day. I was beginning to look like a homeless person. I went back to college but my heart wasn’t in it. I would be counting the minutes until the end of class would find me back in the pub. Seven days drinking, smoking, not eating, losing weight my health was suffering but I did not notice. Something had to give and boy did it, I had a stroke in March of 2015.

Now my drinking had to stop, my crutch was gone, now my mental health went seriously downhill, I started having anxiety attacks. My bank account was being hacked, I had to check my balance every day to make sure no one was stealing my money. I started to believe that my phone was bugged that people where listening in to my calls stealing my personal information,

Every time I had a headache or pins and needles I was sure I was having another stroke. I was staying at home, not going out for days on end, again, my hygiene went to hell again. I now started having a flashback of my ex, who I believe called me a small man in a pub years after we broke up. I hadn’t seen her in years. She was making fun of my sexual prowess, I am not even sure what she actually said, when it happened or why she was so mean and spiteful. I started to have horrible thoughts of her with other better endowed men than me. I believed that if I was bigger she, would have never left. I started to inquire about penis enlargement, about pills and creams and injections to make me bigger. I started watching -----, measuring myself against the performers and coming up short, I started to be increasingly paranoid, I would wake in the middle of the night and a crushing wave of despair would wash over me, I would be unable to move and hope I would just die.


It was becoming an never ending cycle, I would try and sleep only to end up dreaming about her then watch more ----- and feel worse, then dawn would break and the cycle would go on again.


I felt like I had no future, my past was crushing me. I have my suicide letters prepared, no one is going to employ a fifty old man with mental health and physical health issues.

Only my son stops me from taking this exit.