Calling for Help

A funny thing often happens when you take that step, suck up the courage, and admit to the world the deep seated pain of loneliness and depression that has been prevalent in your life for longer than you can remember being happy.

The room is suddenly empty. Everyone who was around is just…gone.

You get a few who give a hug, maybe a word or two of encouragement, but then, there is usually silence.

This type of pain is awkward, uncomfortable, and often surprising to hear. The person who says it is usually seen as “happy”, “caring”, “strong”, etc. There is literally no indication of the pain they have expressed.

The reason it isn’t expressed is because of that immediate emptying of the space afterward. Those who have had to deal with this for a long period of time have already experienced that rush to the door when they say, “I’m hurting deep.”

That distance, unfortunately, only provides the following conclusions:

• People really are only there for you during the good times. You’re on your own during the bad.

• You must deserve to be sitting in your pain because no one is willing to just sit with you. You are truly alone.

• Help isn’t coming. You just reached out in such a deep, vulnerable way that probably even surprised you, and you were met with… nothing. You are going to have to deal with your problems only getting worse because no one can/will help you, no matter how desperately you need it.

The problem with these conclusions are, even if they aren’t true, they feel true. When you are in that dark corner, you realize you have now made every single person around you massively uncomfortable to the point that they don’t want to exist in the same space as you. The only options left to you are either to shove all that pain, depression and loneliness back into its ever tightening box and put on a brave outer face, or just give in and let it envelop you till you have nothing to live for. It’s no one’s fault. It’s just how life works.

Earlier this year, I had a weird sort of mental break with my involuntary ennui. I was super nihilistic, really didn’t care if I never woke up, and life was just moving without me in it. I realized then, nothing truly fucking matters. I can do whatever the fuck I want because literally no one was going to be impacted by whatever it was I did. There was no one close enough to me that I had to be concerned about, should I succeed or fail. It was liberating in a very odd way. Much like the famous comic by Hyperbole and a Half on depression, when all options were removed, including others’ help, care and support, suddenly, the game changed and I was no longer bound by the things that ground most people. I didn’t have to care because no one cared enough about me to matter.

I’m not saying any of this to garner support, sympathy, or anything from anyone. I have literally given up mattering to anyone. Ever. About anything or any part of me. That is just the way I have survived for the last 9 months.

I used to have plans for the future. I don’t have that anymore. I just try to survive. I’m feel like I’m literally stuck where even if I tried, the only direction I am going is down.


I’m too old for job prospects. Too old to get, let alone afford, a new course of career. To be 100% honest, my only hope is to become physically disabled and get on welfare. This is where I’m at. Where I’ve been, despite my attempts to get myself out, because I have zero support.

But, for some unknown reason, I still keep going. I will continue to struggle, alone, until the darkness finally wins. I’ve resolved myself to this place.

So when someone reaches out and expresses their situation, all I ask is that you don’t look for the nearest exit. If you truly care about them, and they have finally reached that breaking point where they can no longer hold in that pain and saddness for one more moment, be there. Be present. Even if you can’t offer solutions. Becaise not feeling alone all the fucking time is so much better than looking around and having that feeling confirmed.

(Written elsewhere on 1/15/23 – edited to reflect a more current space.)

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