Old feelings…

I found a counselor last night I am going to attempt to get in to see both for couples counseling and for individual therapy.

She’s with a group that focuses on counseling those who are hard to counsel. My husband and I as a couple qualify for that. Even more so, I do though. They also specialize in DBT. DBT was what the counselor I opened up to previously suggested for me. It’s used for those who have chronic issues with suicide, someone like me.

I’ve opened up almost completely to one counselor. Completely to none. Partially to five counselors and three psychiatrists. Or something like that; it’s hard to remember anymore. If I had more time with that counselor it would have been completely. I trusted her. I didn’t trust myself. I knew I was teetering on the edge at that point. More so even than I do now. I lived by myself. I was extremely suicidal. The only thing that kept me alive was the fact that I cried myself to sleep before I was able to do anything. Living alone away from my parents meant that they likely wouldn’t be the one to find the body. I regret not going through with it then.

I did a lot of crying back then. I still cry a lot now, the tears are just on the inside. I can’t cry now without questions. And I don’t want to answer questions. Hell, I don’t have the answers to the questions. It’s not even that I don’t want to answer them, I actually can’t. Even back then, the crying was when I was by myself. Now, I’m never by myself. I never cried in counseling, although I wanted to so much.

Want to know what’s sad? More than anything, I just want someone to hold me when I cry. Simple, right? I just want to be held. The emotions are so intense. Even if i could get someone to hold me, I don’t know if I could live in the moment. As in, the emotional overload from someone holding me while I cry is too much. So as much as I want it, I can’t go through with it. I would have to separate the feelings that I desperately need to feel from how I feel for a simple hug.

My birthday is less than four months away now. It’s the day I keep planning to go through with it. Every year it is harder to get through. Every year I make the promise that I won’t see the next one. Every year I fail.

I want to tell someone all this so badly. I want to actually have the courage to TELL them, not have to chicken out and write everything out or not tell them at all. Completely. I want to talk and tell someone my past. Tell them what I’m planning on for future (or lack thereof). I want to have that candid conversation and tell them about how absolutely terrified I am about any possibility. I want to tell them that I really want to go through with it. I want to tell them how terrified I am. I want to tell them how incredibly intense the feelings are.

Old habits are resurfacing to cope. Or at least I have to fight them. I want to cut. I know Erik will be pissed if he sees that I’m doing that. I just can’t let people see, which isn’t hard given where I cut.

I’m scared to open up to someone. Scared to move forward. Scared to stay in the present. Just scared.

Somethings got to give though. I either have to work up the courage to move forward, or work up the courage to go through with it. The limbo isn’t working.

Drama

It seems like my life is riddled with drama. Mostly caused by work and one other person.

Our little boy ended up getting stung by a wasp today. We got some medicine put on it and he was back up going at it outside. My husband went to kill the wasp and its nest and the little on tried to follow. I picked him up and moved him away so that he wouldn’t follow. Little guy got mad and head butted me. I now have a bloody lip and a broken tooth.

We got home and I tried to show my husband my tooth. He said there was no way the little one could have chipped my tooth head butting me. Well, dang it, at least try to look at it. He kept telling me there was no way he could have done it. I kept saying ok to him. I’m not going to sit there and argue about my chipped tooth. If he doesn’t want to believe it, fine, don’t believe it. Then he basically got mad because I shut him out.

That was almost hilarious!? I shut him out… how ’bout him shutting me out. Telling me over and over again that there was no way it could have happened. He doesn’t believe anything I say. He shut me down … all I did was refuse to argue with it. I’m tired of arguing with him. He wants to spew his trash, he can do it, but I’m not going to agree with it necessarily.

Then he sat there on the bed and pouted for quite a while. I’m tired of having to deal with our oldest who throws temper tantrums just like him. I’m tired of her learning his bad habits. I’m tired of having to deal with three kids (including husband), and an old dog.

When is someone going to care for me? Maybe that is selfish, but for once, I want someone to take care of me.

Breathe

I ran across this in one of my Facebook groups.

I’m pretty much alienated at work now. Unless someone *needs* something from me, I don’t see folks.

I sit in my office and pretend that I’m happy.

Pretend. Typically I’d say that it’s so much easier to pretend to be happy. To put a smile on my face

because that means I wouldn’t have to face the hurt that I’m feeling. Or to face the questions from people. But honestly, at this point, no one is asking how I feel so it is even more lonely.

It feels this is never-ending. Right when I get to a point where I think everything is going to be ok, it changes. I go from rock bottom to I’m going to make it through this, to rock bottom again. It’s just a cycle. I had just recovered enough to think that my life was worth living; starting to be happy. Then all this happened at work, and I realized that it really isn’t worth living.

Things get better folks say. I’m not really seeing the proof behind that. And at this point it wouldn’t take much to convince me things could get better. Things are so bleak that any light would be helpful.

Anytime I didn’t have to argue with folks at work. Or argue with people at home.

So what happens when the chapters start running together? When life feels like one big long chapter, with no break? When one chapter really does make up my whole story? Or what happens if there are different chapters but they all end the same way?

At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter which scenario it is. It matters that I’m unhappy. That I can’t breathe because I’m so focused on just staying alive. That I have absolutely no clue who can handle the intense emotions. I want to talk to someone, but not sure who I can turn to.

I keep wondering… do things get better?

Will I be strong enough to end the struggle? Or will the struggle end me?