Ok, maybe some of you don’t. This feeling makes me feel like it’s better for the world if I just cease to exist. It has been a while since I have thought about suicide.
Well, that feeling came back again today. And thoughts of my own demise comforted me. It’s like a security blanket, that when the world suffocates me, I at least have these feelings of release. An out, if you will.
I can’t seem to not cry. I can’t stop. The tears fall, and the thoughts start up again. And because my spouse doesn’t understand the feeling of having the comforting feeling of suicide, he says I’m selfish for thinking that way. Now making me feel guilty, once again. It’s not his fault. But… I don’t have anyone else.
It seems easier to not say anything at all.
I’m not judged. I die inside silently where no one can see. Sometimes, I feel so brave to ask for help, to talk about my emotions and expose a vulnerable part of me. And it seems, all too often, I’m poked with an electric stick and I regret talking at all.
This stems from mistakes that were made. Mistakes that were my fault solely. I take responsibility for my actions, I always have. However, I also take on more than I handle. This isn’t the first time, and it isn’t the last. This is a mistake I will continue to make. Because I challenge myself. Sometimes, I put myself in positions where I set myself up to fail. This is one of those times.
When I make a mistake, I can admit it, and I can learn from it. When I make a bunch of mistakes all around the same time, or on the same day, it builds up. I wish it would go away, and I could crawl in a hole and just have the world pass me by.
But I can’t, and it doesn’t stop. It seems I finally get into a mental state of ‘peace’ or whatever, and then one thing happens, then another. I’m overwhelmed, then I make a mistake. All the problems are unrelated, but in turn – they are related. And all of a sudden, my mental state crumbles and the brick wall protecting me is gone.
I’m a snail without its shell, and I’m sitting in the sun, baking. Can’t get into the grass, and can’t protect myself. Someone has to come save me or I will die.
I think it’s time to call my therapist again. I’m sinking back into the darkness. Again, and the nightmares started again last night. No sleep. No dreams, just the demon. Back again from the graveyard of my mind. I thought I had buried that guilt so far into my mind that I wouldn’t see him again.
If I could take a vacation, I wouldn’t use it to travel or to do something fun. I would use it to take care of myself, and go to a mental institution to have someone fix the way I think.
Is that possible? To have someone just get in there, pop the hood, and change the oil? … in a brain? I hope so… because mentally, I’m done. I’m just going to let the thoughts of suicide comfort me for now. I’ll let the tears fall, and have some of myself die in the process.
I’m surprised I have any pieces left. I should just be an empty shell of a person by now.