I feel the need to blog without having much to say. Shabbat (the Sabbath) was awful. It was a struggle to get through the day. I got agitated late last night again and struggled to sleep even after I got to bed, which at least shows that the agitation is not directly linked to using the internet or TV as I don’t do either of those over Shabbat. I slept through most of today and laid in bed much of the time when I wasn’t asleep because I was too tired or depressed to read. I ran in to two people I was at school with who are now very religious (one at least is a rabbi) and who now have children – quite old children, so they must have been married for a while. I run into these people quite frequently (I assume they live locally) and I’m not sure if they remember me (I have never said anything to them; I don’t think they bullied me, but I had nothing in common with them at school and don’t expect to have anything in common with them now), but it always makes me feel bad that I don’t have a wife and children like a good Jewish man should. I suppose part of me wonders if I should have gone to yeshiva (rabbinical seminary) and become a rabbi like they did, although I can’t imagine ever succeeding if I tried to do that.
Over Shabbat I realised that really I want to die, but I can’t because a few people (friends and family) care about me. I should feel relieved, but I feel I’m being forced to live a life that can only ever make me miserable. I genuinely can’t ever see any hope for things getting better and I wonder if my therapist is right that I should not have turned down that job offer, regardless of the fact that I don’t think I could have managed to do the job. However, as I have said before, there isn’t a method of suicide that is both certain and painless and with my luck if I attempted suicide I would doubtless end up alive and in terrible, perhaps permanent, physical pain, so between that and the people who care about me, I suppose I’m stuck here for the duration. I feel as if I have been given a life sentence.
Shabbat was the 9th of the Jewish month of Av (Tisha B’Av), the saddest day in the Jewish calendar, the day when we mourn the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem and the many, many, many tragedies of Jewish history. This is usually a fast day (as in no food or drink), but because we don’t mourn on Shabbat, it gets postponed to the 10th, which is my Hebrew birthday, which somehow seems appropriate. On the Fast of Av, pretty much everything remotely fun or enjoyable is forbidden. I’ve always taken it very seriously, but I’m not sure that I have the energy this year. I genuinely don’t know how I’m going to get through the day. I was just crying in shul (synagogue). My brain was pretty scrambled and I was crying over stuff in my life, the sad events mourned on the Fast of Av and sad things in the world in general, all at once, without really knowing what I was crying about or why. I just cried a lot. I couldn’t really follow the reading of Eichah (Lamentations) or read the kinot (laments) with the congregation. I just feel alternately despairing and exhausted, with occasional bursts of anxiety about the future and the holiday I’m still trying to avoid cancelling.
I feel there is no hope for me. I don’t feel at all integrated into the Jewish community. I struggle at times to communicate with my family. My friends are all distant geographically and often emotionally too. I have three good friends, which is more than I had a few years ago, but just knowing people care about me turns out not to magically improve my mood or self-esteem as I had hoped it might. I can’t see myself ever having anything approaching a full-time or ‘real’ job again. I feel I have met my bashert (soulmate) only for her to be unable to cope with my mental health issues and consequent low income. I don’t blame her as those are big things to cope with, but I can’t see anyone else ever being able to look past them. I really can’t see anything good on the horizon and I’m not sure how I’m going to get through the next fifty or sixty years.