Medication: 25 to Life

I've been on psychotropics for almost 12 years. On and off. Pill after pill. Combination after combination. SSRIs. MAOIs. Benzodiazepines. Sedatives. Nothing has really helped me. They help for a short period then nothing. Sometimes they don't work at all. I wonder why I take all these things. I wonder why I bother. I look up at the pharmacy above my bed, same drugs of different strengths, things tried and current medications. If I took them all, everything would stop hurting. I would feel the relief that I ache for. 

It's the first week of May and I'm cold. I'm curled up in a ball, hidden under my duvet. My thoughts are echoing through my brain. It feels as if everything and everyone is shrieking at me. I don't know if I can do it anymore. The depression hurts so bad. It's crushing to both my body and mind. I'm constantly tired again. My moods were better for the last few weeks. I was driven, a little more focused, still not at the top of my game with the focus but it was better than it had been and I was making plans for the future. Now? I just want to hide in bed, maybe with a pizza and some Diet Coke. I don't want to leave the bed. I don't want to leave the house. I don't want to face the world. Everything about it makes me hurt. It's a constant assault of emotions that I'm not ready to face or emotions that I don't want to at all. 

I'm 28 almost 29 and it feels like I have no control at all. Everything feels so unbalanced and out of my control. Logically I know that I have control over my life. It feels as if I am so disconnected from everything and everyone, despite wanting connections. I'm trying my best, trying to better my life. Applying for a promotion, reaching out to my co-workers who I think of as friends. My shyness cripples me. Through the help of a good friend who I trust, I was able to gather my courage to even apply for the promotion. Half the people are for me, half are against me. I don't understand their jealousy if they're not even applying for the position. It's been weighing on me that maybe I've just wasted my time.  I hate that thought and it's been keeping me up at night. The voices screaming that I'm not good enough. I want it all to stop. Nothing is helping me. 

With depression, the clarity of death is almost always in your face. You don't see it as something to fear, but as somewhat of a relief. You know that will bring about the pain you experience. But you wonder, will this bring upon me a new and even worse suffering? A pain that I can't undo but I will wish like hell that I can? These are the things that weigh on my head when I lay in my bed, the stars gleaming above me.