I can’t help but feel guilty for even being here. I’ve always believed life is a gift and there’s nothing so bad that it can actually ruin your life; surely if you are so desperate you are contemplating taking your life then surely you are desperate enough to try anything else that might alleviate your pain- and, I so smugly thought, totally changing the life you couldn’t live with would, voila, take away the belief that you need to die.
I WAS SO WRONG.
I understand now. No matter what I do, if I moved a thousand miles away, if I threw myself into a new career, if I married the first person who shows an interest in me and punched out six kids, this will never, ever be fixed. My life has become a black, ugly thing, it hurts to be awake, to think, I’m not safe in my own mind. THIS Â is what those people who took they’re on lives were trying to escape. I understand now.
Without him.
I’ve tried for so long to be brave, to make a life for myself that didn’t leave me afraid to turn the lights off, leaving me with this terrible knowledge. A year and a half. I felt better… not good, but better. But when I saw him, with her, I knew I’d been lying to myself. The ghost of the life I could have had had destroyed the life I have now. Nothing- even what should be good- has any meaning. I feel dirty all the time, shaken and contaminated. And her, her, she has everything and God forgive me how I hate her for it- I even did that pathetic Facebook trawl for info on her because I wanted to believe she was a good person, that at least this was FAIR, I can live with it if it’s fair but she’s not, SHE’S NOT. I’m no saint but dear Christ; she’s judgemental (cross-dressing is ‘disturbing’-really?), she’s boastful, she doesn’t seem very clever and seems to really enjoy giving people public guilt trips. And she has taken my life from me, effectively… she has the life I needed. Oh God oh God I’m getting that breathless awful cracking-down-the-middle feeling, it’s the unfairness of it GOD don’t make me live in this unfairness, please please please please no
you see why I can’t carry on, I can’t. I don’t want to die, I’m terrified to die and the thought of never seeing my family again has just doubled the pain that reared up while I was remembering that moment looking at her Facebook page. My chest hurts like it has for two days but at least I’m not crying. I don’t know what to do. I’m so scared to die but how can I live with this pain? I’ve not had more than an hour without thinking of him in over two years. I’ve not had a day go by without either having to ram the grief back or just plain old bursting into tears in a year and a half. If it was going to get better, it would have got better by now.
My life has already gone. I know that. They took it.
It’s just a question of if I can carry on indefinitely til a bus crash or cancer or anything just wipes out my consciousness or if I’m going end up bowing out of the suffering. Part of me won’t ever stop hoping this will change somehow, until I’m dead.
1 comment
So um… welcome to hell?
The worst thing about asking questions, is when you get the answer you don’t want. But the good thing about getting that answer, is that you no longer need to ask the question.
“We are what we do, not what we say we’ll do.” -C.G. Jung
If someone does something you don’t want them to do… then they are not who you want them to be; no matter how much you wanted them to be, or how much you believed they were.
You were… invited, encouraged, to make a very painful mistake… but now you have your answer, and can let the question rest… even if the memories rear their ugly heads, sometimes. The best you can do is numb yourself to them, ignore them, let them drift, fragment, and fade… let yourself forget, as much as possible. Don’t just “let it go.” Let it go Away. Stop letting it, fight it if you must, from causing more harm. Once you stabilize, you’ll have a new question: “what can i do with what remains of me?” The sooner you dissolve that old illness, the better your chance of getting an answer other than “not enough.”