What is fair about life?

I wrote in my previous post that there is one thing constant: CHANGE.  Everything changes.  Nothing stays the same.  No matter how much we want it to stay the same. 

That job I was talking about, not anymore.  At the end of last year they decided to get rid of me.  It seems that it was carefully planned, but then again, it might not have been.  They made lots of people redundant, and one of them was me.  I was devastated because it is a good company to work for, but I was relieved that I didn’t have to put up with the bully anymore.  Got a decent redundancy package, and I claimed a bit more for all the crap the bully put me through.

I was lucky enough to find another job and started in January, so really didn’t have to use any of the redundancy money to live on.  I must say, my new boss is lovely.  Gentle, understanding and nice man, who only wants the best for his people.  I am lucky to have him as a boss.

Unfortunately, I had a couple of relapses at the beginning of the year.  Not sure why, but I just felt like there was nothing for me here.  They prescribed me Quetiapine, an antipsychotic.  It really didn’t help much, other than the sleep issue.

I spent 3 days where I don’t know what happened.  I overdosed, but what it did was space me out and apparently I was just a zombie.  Awake, but I don’t remember anything.  Mom told me about things I did, that I would normally not do.  I was definitely spaced out.  That is when I decided that I am going to get off the meds.  I have had enough of this nightmare.  I am relapsing more and more, and I think it has everything to do with the meds.  So a few weeks back, I started tapering the doses. I was on Escitalopram 20mg and Quetiapine 25mg.  Now I am on Escitalopram 15mg and Quetiapine 6.25mg (1/4 of a 25mg pill).  I am feeling much more emotionally stable and all in all, happier.

Until this morning.  I am angry with life.  My mom’s father in law (who is not my granddad) passed away in the early hours of this morning.  He lost his battle with cancer.  It started in the bowels, then it went to his lungs and ended in his brain.  The last few months he has been struggling big time.  Unfair really, because he was such a gentle, caring man who wanted to live. 

Since I was a teenager, all I wanted to do is die.  Even now, I don’t want to live.  Yet I have health, but I can’t give it to the people who really want to live.  How unfair is that?  I was in rage this morning, crying so much that I had to come back home from work.  Drank myself to sleep and I am a bit calmer now.  But I still feel life is unfair.  How come people who are evil, have health?  How come criminals have health?  I know innocent people die every day, but for people like me, that don’t want to live, why can’t we pass our health to the people who deserve to live?

I suppose I needed to get this off my chest.  I know there are people out there that are worse off than me.  And I honestly feel bad, because I have health, a roof over my head, a good job, lovely pets and a family that cares about me, yet I feel miserable.  At least I am not suicidal.  I think tapering the meds is helping.  I will try and keep you all posted on how that comes along.

In the meantime, good night everyone.