The last couple of days in Colorado were great, likey because E was sick for part of it and slept alot. Today he was up and in a grumpy mood. Everything I said or did was wrong. I was happy when he was sleeping because then I could be myself without feeling like I’m walking on eggshells with him.
I had previously decided that I was undecided on living. In fact I think I was even leaning towards staying alive.
But then today happened. And it wasn’t particularly rough, at least comparatively. I’m not sure why he upset me so much. Maybe because I was already in a reflective mood, trying to figure out what to do. And he just typed the scale back in favor of dying.
I basically either need to leave Erik or die. Either way the kids lose one parent. At least with me dying, they get money out of the deal. E could pay off the house. Everyone is happy. They don’t have to be around someone like me.
I’m not sure what to do. It’s a permanent decision. I’m scared and feel all alone.
I came here to make a decision on what comes next. To live or die. I haven’t. I’m only more confused about everything. I’ve wanted to die for so long. The pain is hard. The struggle is hard. And we are leaving tomorrow and I’m no closer to answer.
I looked at W’s face and saw him smile and questioned everything. I wouldn’t be able to see him smile again. S would have to go through the pain of losing me. W won’t remember me, but S would.
But the pain is significant. I’m scared and don’t know what to do. I don’t know who to trust. I don’t know why I should go on. And then I see his smile and hear his laugh and I realize how confused I am.
Things aren’t going to get better. I know that. I know that I am going to have to deal with the pain and battle the thoughts for the rest of my life. I have absolutely no hope that I will feel other’s normal… only mine, and that is painful.
I see other people smile and wonder why I can’t be that way. Why my smiles are typically forced, because they are expected. Or because smiles get less questions. And I don’t have to answer that question of how I’m doing today. Why, yes, I’m peachy. But I’m not. I’m far from it. Every moment is hard to get through. And I don’t know how to tell people that. Most folks wouldn’t know how to respond to it anyway. So I save both of us the awkwardness of the truth. And say that I’m fine.
A friend told me that he would feel sorry for my kids if I went through with it. To me, my kids would benefit by not having me around. What do I provide them? What do I provide anyone? Nothing.
There are so many doubts, both ways. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I can talk to. But I need to make this decision and move on. It is tearing me up inside, and has been for quite a while.
I’m not near as strong as people think I am. But I have to be strong enough to do what’s best for everyone else. I just have to figure what that is out.
Fall break time means spending some time on vacation this year. This year we made our Colorado trip since we didn’t do it this summer.
It’s snowy up in the mountains. I was hoping for more snow than what we got but I guess something is better than nothing. Even without the snow, the mountains are peaceful and inviting. They give me a setting that is easier to think through big issues.
I had a friend way back in college that told me that I needed to make a decision and stick with it. We were putting together a puzzle together. It was another rough night and she was there for me. She told me that I had struggled with wanting to kill myself for long enough. I needed to make a decision and see it through. If I wanted to stay alive, put all my energy into it. If I wanted to kill myself, go ahead. But that I needed to stop living in limbo. Stop torturing myself with the decision. At the time I thought it was mean. Of course she was supposed to tell me to live. But looking back I understand now.
Recently a friend told me something similar. I’m having a hard time with this decision, especially with some of the things he has talked me through that make me doubt things. This time the advice was appreciated and understood.
At the end of the day, they are right. I need to make a decision and do my best to follow through.
At this point, I’m still leaning towards going through with it, except with a date change. Typically the date has always been on my birthday. Now I’m thinking E’s birthday. It would be my birthday gift to him. A me free world for him. Insurance money. And I would get one last holiday season with the kids.
I know no one can make this decision for me. But I’m conflicted. I need closure. I can’t keep this up. And don’t know what to do.
I don’t know how many times I’ve said this or something similar. For me, both are true. I spend a majority of the time putting on that smile so people won’t know, for a variety of reasons… I don’t want to explain the feelings. Most people wouldn’t understand them. Hell, most of the time I don’t understand them. Most of the time it takes me a while to process them through to figure out how I feel. So it takes someone who knows me better than myself to help me through it. And since I don’t let many people in, then those people are few and far between. And honestly the people who are close to me, I don’t want to hurt them with my pain. But I don’t want to get through it by myself. Actually that’s more of a need than want. I don’t think I actually can get through it by myself.
I talked to one of those friends this week about things going on. Afterwards, I thanked him. He told me it wasn’t a favor to talk to me. That’s a new concept to me. I think of myself as a burden. As a friend that is hard to put up with. I don’t understand why anyone would want to be friends with me. To talk me through the rough times, again and again and again… and not have a different outcome. I don’t get better.
The tears flow freer than the words…
Yesterday, my husband yelled at me because I wanted to leave damp clothes in the dryer to finish drying. He said they were all dry. And that if I thought some were still damp, I needed to come down there and find the damp ones. Only the damp ones should be in the dryer, instead of all the clothes. He then left for five hours. He wouldn’t answer texts. I didn’t know if he was ok. I wasn’t ok. He came back home, and went straight up to bed. Locked the door. Moved all the clothes I was packing out of the way (so I ended up refolding everything on the bed). Next morning wouldn’t be in the same room as me. Everywhere he went, he locked the door behind him. He refused to ride in to work with us. He wouldn’t talk to us. S asked on the way to school if she could tell people about what daddy did. No… that stays at home. I’m teaching my 5 year old how to cover up. To lie. To suppress her feelings.
Maybe things will get better. Maybe they won’t be like this forever. I doubt it.
In that moment, and a lot of moments following, I wanted to die.
On top of things with my husband, things are strained with my best friend. Someone that I was literally closest to more than anyone. Who I wanted to be there. Who I could tell the truth to. Who wouldn’t judge me. The person I stayed alive for.
I want someone to hold me while I cry. To tell me things will get better. To lie.
But at the end of the day, I know there’s no one there that will hold me while I cry. No one to tell me things will get better because they won’t. I’m a failure. And unloved. No one will love me because I’m not worth it. No one will miss me. No one cares.
I want this to end. But I would fail at that too. Just like everything else. I’m trapped. I don’t know where to go. I don’t know what to do. I want everything to be over.
If I survive this, I’m not trusting again. No more friends. No more hurt. Alone. But no one to answer to.
Everyone tells me things will get better. They don’t. They get worse. I can’t take anymore.
The tears flow freer than the words. Everything is blurry. Everything hurts. I want it to stop. I’m scared.
In counseling, we were supposed to relate a conflict and tell how that made us feel. E was then to validate my feelings. E argued with the feelings that I had. He didn’t understand how I was feeling the way I said I was. Honestly, I felt much worse then what I said I was. And he thought what I said was too dramatic. This is something I struggle with. Actually several things.
I struggle with putting a name to my feelings. Heck, I have a hard time untangling what I’m feeling to make sense of the feelings. it’s like everything is so intertwined. I can’t unravel the feelings to put a name on. The feelings are just there.
How do I explain that feeling? I have no idea. I just know living with it is hard. Putting words to those feelings are hard. Explaining them to another person who hasn’t been where I am before is hard. At least someone who has been through what I have will understand the frustration in figuring out what I’m feeling. Will have patience that I may not always have that answer right away. And that after talking about it for a while, I might change my mind on what I’m feeling… or more precisely, change the word for what I’m feeling.
Maybe that’s one of the reasons why I struggle with telling people how badly I feel. I told someone a while ago how badly I was feeling. Her answer was basically I don’t come across that way. I seem “put together” and happy. That’s because I use all of my energy being happy for everyone. So next time you ask me how I’m doing, I’ll likely tell you I’m ok. I promise you I’m not.
And I don’t feel this way just to get attention. Hell, who would I get attention from? Do you really think that I want to bother people with my problems? Do you really think that I want people to know how weak I truly am? How I’m holding on by threads? That I can’t even be happy right? I don’t want attention for this. Attention would mean I would have to talk about it all the time. I don’t necessarily want to have to answer the how are you questions. I don’t want to have to be constantly fighting the tears.
At the same time I do want a circle of real life, non internet friends I can talk to. Someone who will physically hold me while I cry. Who will tell me things will be ok. Who will include me in the fun, even if they know my answer will be no. Who will keep asking and prodding until the answer is yes. And once the answer is yes, accept me for who I am, and make me feel comfortable. I have that relationship with one friend. Someone who is there for me. Someone who won’t judge.
If I’m sad around someone it’s not because they make me unhappy… quite the opposite. It’s that I trust them so much that I know that they will accept me whether I’m happy or sad. That I will be truly welcome. That I don’t have to spend all my energy being happy. That I can take my mask off.
The feelings are overwhelming. What feelings they are, I don’t know, but they are overwhelming all the same. It’s emptiness. Numbness. And excruciating pain. More, but they are so intermingled that I can’t tell what they are.
I want to cry. I want the tears to run free. I have to be quiet so E won’t know. More than anything, I just want someone to hold me. I want someone to hold me while I cry. Lie. Tell me everything will be ok. Even if someone did that, I would still feel completely alone. So I guess it doesn’t matter.
It’s 36 days until my birthday. A little over a month. The day I look forward to every year. And dread. I look forward to the hope it brings. I want to die so badly. I want my birthday to be the day. I dread the day after. Because I know I won’t be strong enough, brave enough, to go through it. So I will be stuck for another year. Waiting for that day. Hoping that the next year that one thing I lived for at the last birthday is no longer there.
Having one reason to hold on to, to live for means I make it through another year. But what happens if that one reason goes away and I can’t find another reason? I guess to some extent it’s better. Then I’d be making the decision for myself, versus someone else telling me not to do it. And I’m free to make whatever decision I want.
I don’t want to die alone. But I have no other choice. No one wants to be with me. So I’ll have to be ok with this. I’ll have to die alone. This is the only way. I will die as I have lived. Alone.
I matter to no one. No one will miss me. No one will care. They would probably be happy.. E had even told me at one time that he wouldn’t miss me if I died. Dying is part of living. He’d be able to get along ok without me. So what’s the point?
If I don’t matter to anyone. If my husband doesn’t care if I died. If every day is a battle that hurts. Why should I go on? Everyone would be better off without me. The kids would be better off. My husband would be better off.
How do I say good bye? Do I say good bye? I don’t want anyone remembering me. Since everyone would be better off without me, I don’t want them remembering me. I don’t want the constant reminders that I lived to be there.