Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is ask for help. I need help…gawd…I need help. And I desperately want to throw up my arms and have someone to make all of the decisions for me-- either put me in a hospital or do something to make a change in my brain. I'm afraid of myself. I do not feel safe. The therapist made me promise not to kill myself last Tuesday night –and I didn’t. Maybe I need to be in the hospital. But I would never go because I'm way too stubborn and I think it would make things worse because the thought of losing even my freedom is even more overwhelming, I feel like I've lost so much already. I want someone to save me because I can't save myself. Which sounds ridiculous and obviously isn’t possible since I am an adult and have to save myself.
The past few weeks have been dreadful. I have not felt this suicidal and self destructive since March 2008, which, ironically is the last time I went back to the hometown. I am so depressed and dissociative that I barely know what to do with myself, on the rare occasions when I am myself. I almost called the suicide hotline but decided against it because I really didn’t think they could help me, even though I know it is a very real possiblity that I could die. Very real.
There isn’t much anyone can do for me. This morning when I become conscious of just how bad it had been last night I realized I should probably make a safety plan. And so I did. I reached out to a friend of mine and asked her to check on me at night. And that if I did not respond to wait 15 minutes and try again – and then if no response…well, that’s where I get lost. Then what? Call the therapist? Call 911? Then what? I don’t want to go to the hospital.
And I didn’t even call the therapist to tell her just how bad it is right now. For a couple of reasons: I’m unsure of her thoughts about Thursday’s meeting and I’m projecting the TS’s words into the therapist, thinking she took in and believes everything TS woman said is gold. And if she doesn’t care, or tells me to call someone else, or “grow up”…or anything of the sort – it will surely make things worse now….so I did not call her. Bad decision? Maybe – but I’m famous for those lately.
I want to write….but not on my other blog because of the space I am in now will worry people who care about me and I don’t want that- so I write here for now. I know I have people who love me, who care about me greatly…and I love them in return. I don’t know what’s wrong with me – why can’t I FEEL it? Why isn’t it enough? I surely don't know. All I do know is that I am filled with depression and thoughts of death are being knocked around my head like a game of pool. I'm just waiting for the 8-ball to hit the corner pocket...and that'll be it.
Where is the anchor that is supposed to tie me to this world?
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