May is a really crappy month for me. Come the end of the month, I will be forced to celebrate my birthday against my wishes just to pander to the wishes of my family. I would rather forget the whole business. My life consists of nothing but disappointments and misery and I can think of nothing better than to forget the fact that I have notched up another pointless year of existence.
When I was a young boy, my life stretched before me, full of promise and potential, only to end up empty and full of darkness. The world was my oyster; it is now a prison. I find myself wishing for an end to my journey through a Hell populated by other people and the constant discrimination and prejudice I face because of my mental health issues. I spend my time trying to fill the long, lonely, depressing hours with whatever I can find to do, mostly for no recompense and with precious little recognition for the ideas I put out on to the internet in the vain hope that it may do some good.
It may seem a little early to be getting depressed about my birthday but it is not just that that makes May a horrifying month to live through. It is also a painful reminder of the one person without whom my life is empty, my Grandma, who was born towards the early part of the month and who departed this mortal coil way back in 1989. She was the only person in my family who saw me as an individual and treated me as such, rather than as my brother’s younger sibling. I do not think I ever recovered from her death or the two years I spent as her carer after she had a stroke. Every May, I am haunted by the ghost of what she became after the stroke, a woman trapped in her own body paralysed down one side and unable to communicate. I see her lying in her bed, making a horrible moaning sound, having soiled herself and being unable to move her because of the amount of weight she had put on. I can still smell the excrement and feel the utter helplessness, knowing that Grandma was embarrassed and horrified by the situation. And then, I remember what she was before the stroke and it depresses me even more because I know how much I lost even before her death.
Just to add insult to injury, my Grandma’s birthday was also my Great-Aunt Maddie’s birthday and she passed on in the last couple of years – the only connection I had left to my Grandma.
On top of all of that, I will be forced to celebrate another year passed of my empty life. A life so devoid of anything light, of joy, of hope. So forgive me if I am a little down at this time of the year, I am just hoping to make it to the end of the month without having a breakdown or a major depressive episode. That, or hoping that I will go to sleep one night and not wake up the next morning, saving myself the effort of yet another failed suicide attempt.
Until next time…
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