I don’t really have a story to tell other than I have been suicidal what seems like my whole life. Some days I just feel like my brain is hardwired to self destruct. But last night has pushed me so far that it is getting rougher, and I thought maybe posting would help.
Right now there is an overwhelming nausea, tears falling off my chin, and a creepy calm flowing in and out of my lungs while I type this. This is all brought on by a nightmare I had last night. It wasn’t a reoccurring one, it was all brand new. And I will tell what pieces keep playing back to me when I accidentally stop being busy enough to squash this feeling.
I remember I was riding my bike along a trail through my home town and my mom was there. She was falling behind and then out of nowhere a car pulls up beside us, and I just knew they were bad people. She called for me to help her but they pulled her into a ditch. I just kept pedaling and crying. And then I fell into the ditch further down the road and tried to play dead, but a man pulled me down into a hole.
I woke up shaken. Went to the bathroom and threw up. I layed back down and tried to go back to sleep. It took an hour and a half to fall back asleep. I found myself in a weird house, and my mom was there. She had a huge bruise on her face, and told me nothing happened, and we cried. Then someone I must have known came and told us we had to go to the truck where we would be safe. My stepdad came and took my mom so I had to sit in the truck alone. And while I was alone I just cried. And screamed. And swore I wouldn’t live anymore with this pain. And the doors to the truck unlocked. And one of the bad men opened the door and smiled.
Then I woke up again for the final time this morning. There was no way to go back to sleep. But I felt like a hurricane was going on inside me. And that made me furious. Because I looked perfect on the outside. I am 24 with a college degree, two jobs, friends, family, everything I could ask for. But that is me now. I was kicked out of my house the day I turned 18 because my stepdad was abusive and I had had enough. I broke my t6 vertebra two weeks before starting college but still attended full time and worked full time. I had my first ‘true’ breakdown where I committed myself in a hospital my sophomore year of college. I was then raped by my ‘best friend’ in my own bed while my roommates were away. I then started drinking heavily and fighting everyone, and losing myself. But then one day I just said no to antidepressants and counseling and my hatred for myself. I have struggled and worked to stay alive this long, I just feel like even my subconscious is telling me I can’t cope with this anymore.
I feel like so many signs are pointing my way. It seems like suicide is everywhere. When I got off of work my dad called me and asked me to stop by and see him. I spent five hours just playing wii and talking and I felt better. He knows something is wrong and it breaks my heart because I hang on to this silly existence for him and my brother. But when I got home where I thought I could make it through another night wes called and told me what a shitty day he had and how he just wanted to stay home and didn’t really want to talk. There went my safety net. So I am sitting here with my mp3 blaring in my ears, soul wrenchingly crying on my floor typing this out. Praying that maybe everyone who reads this knows what it is like to live when your brain really just wants you to die. Knows what it is like to hold your breath and count because that is the only way you can make it through the night, when it is always worse. Someone who knows what it feels like to keep this bitter darkness all inside when you are the all American girl who has everything and your world seems so perfect in everyone else’s eyes. Someone who feels so disgusting and evil on the inside. I just need someone to say they understand.
aj
3 comments
aj you seem amazing to me. You are coping with so many pressures and yet you keep on going. I understand what it’s like to feel you are one person on the outside and another on the inside. Keep on hoping that things will get better. I just came upon your post by surprise. Thank you for being so brave to share your feelings here.
I understand.
I do.
And you should never need to apologise.
I appreciate the comments. I really do feel a heck of a lot better after finally falling asleep. I have always kept a journal and felt a little better when I would write down my breakdowns in it, but actually posting was better. I feel like I told someone, and I didn’t realize how reassuring that would be. When I woke up I hopped on here to see if anyone posted. Anna, that is all I needed. Because I know there are so many people that feel this way, and that makes it hurt worse. I think what the dream did to me was make me realize that I can deal with my issues and continue to survive because even on the worst day, I do something to keep breathing. But what I am fearful of is I can’t help those who need it. I know how easy it is to fool the world and be top notch, work like nothing is wrong, all while dying inside. So if I can do it, what about my dad? Or my brother? My best friend? And that is what I am so afraid of. I read the submissions on this site and I just want to hug the person. Wrap them up tight and let them know today is rough, and tomorrow is harder, but I am here. And if someone I know is hurting but I just keep “pedaling away”, just the idea makes me cry. I love when someone gets on this site and writes to the world as if they are singling me out. Those bloggers are touching me, even though they don’t know me. Because I know how sincere they feel, because I feel it too. Thank you Anna. Thank you Willow. I know you two are helping others, even if you do not know it.