I attempted to take my life in 2011.
Since then, I have felt sad. I have felt depressed. I have cried over nothing. But I haven't been suicidal.
Until winter of 2022. The winter got long. And cold. And dark. There were a few days in a row that I sobbed after the kids went to school and the only thing that kept me on the earth was my toddler sitting next to me. And the thought of the trauma my kids would experience if I were to die by suicide. I reached out, talked to some friends, and made it through those days. Then spring came. Spring brought warmth and light and calm to my soul. It was a slow and mild spring that led to a lovely summer. And then I broke again.
July is hot and dry and unforgiving in the desert. Our swamp cooler broke and we can't afford to fix it. Our drain is backed up so we can't wash the laundry or use the kitchen sink or the dishwasher that all lead to that drain. I have opted to home school my oldest child because her needs are not being met in the conventional classroom. I have not been medicated for my bipolar in eight years. But in the last couple of years I have realized that I enjoy things less and less that I used to love. Being a mom. Sewing and crafting. Being spontaneous and having fun. The manic episodes have been a problem, but they are easier to reel in, to manage, to tame. And usually the depressive episodes are, too. But not this time. I recognized the manic high and quieted the demon before the damage was irreparable. But with a high comes a low. And this low is really trying to take me out.
All the small events, past, present and future, have been quietly piling up. And one small thing broke the dam.
I see my beautiful life. I see a beautiful future. I yearn for the things to come, I appreciate the things I have now. So why is my brain screaming for me to die. I wish I could express what it feels like. But there are absolutely no words. I want to stick around, I want to be here for my children, I want to grow old with my husband, I want to thrive at work.
I want it all to end.
It feels like my whole soul is screaming and I just want it to shut up. But how do I get it to stop. How do I kill the demon without killing myself. Don't tell me I'll pull through. Of course I will. But I don't want to. Of course I have people that love me. I love them too. Of course my future is bright. But right now is so dark. I can see the light. I want the light. But I'm being absolutely swallowed by the dark.
I will make it through. Because I want to. And I'm reaching out to people to make sure I stay safe. And I am so proud of myself for that. Most people will never know how hard it is to admit that you want to die. People won't believe you. People will see your tears but not reach out. People will send a kind word, but won't go any farther out of their way. I wish someone else would tell me that they are so proud of me for reaching out. Tell me it is such a hard thing to do and I did it. I kept myself safe because nobody will do it for me. And that's so hard. I went to work with a brave face but the moment I saw someone that I know cares, someone who has been through shit, I cried. I told him I am feeling suicidal. I told my managers. I am so grateful for the people I work with. I got sent home from work but not until my managers made sure I was absolutely safe.
It is so confusing to have depression. I am happy. I have a happy life. I have a happy and optimistic nature. But I'm sad. About nothing. And I want to end everything. I want to die.
I have an appointment with my doctor soon to go back on medication. I hope that it helps. Because I would not survive another dark winter. If the suicidal thoughts are this damn strong with my rock of a husband laying in bed with his arms around me, I fear for the dark days when he is at work.
Thank you to the few friends who have reached out after I disappeared from work. Thank you to my husband for carrying me through this. It hurts me even more that I am dragging you through this darkness with me. I wish I could just exist in this world without bipolar. I wish I could just pluck that piece of me out forever. I wish I could exist as myself. Not worrying about what destruction the mania will leave in its wake. Or if I'll make it to Thursday. I don't want to be afraid of sitting in the driver's seat. I want to be weird. I want to be my happy self. I wish I didn't have a looming thought of "when will the next disruption occur. And will it be manic or depressive."
It is healing to express a sliver of my mind. I am still very much in a dark place. I am still worried that I won't make it to Thursday. But I'm fighting. I'm almost out of my own strength and grateful I have my husband. I want to make it to Thursday. I want everything to end. I want to enjoy the sunshine. I don't want to wake up in the morning. I am so conflicted. I am so scared. I am not alone. I am so completely lonely.
I cannot let the demon win. But I'm scared.
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