Made it through

I made it through my husband’s birthday, the day I had planned on killing myself. As everyone (or no one) breathes a sigh of relief, I don’t know what to do.

I’m literally tired of/from crying, but don’t have the strength to get better. No one will care if I die. No one. I’m all alone. I just want someone to hold me while I cry. I just want to matter to someone. In a twisted way I just want someone to miss me when I’m gone.

I’m distancing myself from the one close real life friend I can talk to. I don’t want to hurt the friend if I go through with it. I don’t want to be a burden anymore.

I’m supposed to do evidence for/against being unloveable for counseling. I have a ton of evidence for being unloveable but can’t think of a reason to put down for being loveable. I can’t even do a counseling assignment right.

I wish I would have the courage to go through with killing myself. I wish someone would be with me when I do it so I wasn’t so alone. I know that would be so cruel to the other person, so I will have to be alone.

Last New Years

This is the last New Years. And with that brings only nine more days I have to get through.

I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of reaching out to others just to be hurt terribly. I’m tired of trusting. I don’t want friends anymore. I guess it doesn’t even matter. No one wants to be friends with me. I’m completely alone. It’s too late anyway. I only have nine more days left.

My husband’s counselor pretty much said that he didn’t need counseling. He will see him infrequently… About once a month. Pretty much seems like everything is my fault with this. I’m a horrible person.

I matter to no one. No one will care if I die. No one loves me. It makes stopping the pain easier.

I feel like I’m just going through the motions now. Like I’m just doing what I have to do to get by, to make it to the next day, knowing I’m almost to the finish line.

What happens when you can’t see a future? When every possible outcome you don’t want to (or can’t) live through? When the one outcome you want you can’t have?

I’m scared by the feelings. I’m getting closer and closer to going through with it. I have a little less than two weeks left here on Earth. I’ll ring in the New Year one more time. Eleven more days. I plan on taking the day off sick. I’m not sure when during the course of the day I will do it. I won’t take my phone with me. I will leave a note on the kitchen counter. I’ll kiss the kids extra that morning. I’ll tell them good bye for the last time.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say. How do you say goodbye? How do you explain the raging intensely sad feelings inside when on the outside you have to be happy? How do you explain to someone who thinks you’re strong that you really aren’t?

Either way I lose. And I can’t take the pain any longer. This way gives my husband and kids more money. They can pay off the house and do things they want to do without me. I’m not needed. I’m expendable. I want this. I need this. Please don’t judge me.

Awake

I lie here awake in bed waiting for something I know won’t happen, but still holding out hope that it will. Tears replace much needed sleep. I lie here awake planning out my last day.

I started taking my Zoloft again. I thought it would help with the depression. To some extent it has. I remember the issue with taking it though.

It makes me scarily ok with suicide. Like I’ve accepted this is ok. The anxiety and fear surrounding it is gone, just as the anxiety and fear surrounding a lot of things is gone. The last time I was going to do it, I got so very close. I had said good byes. The knife was there. I was by myself. All I had to do was push down and I would have been free. Why didn’t I have that courage? Why did I decide to turn around and go back inside? This time hopefully the anxiety of it will be gone and I’ll have the courage.

I don’t know if I’ve felt this is the correct path forward more than I ever have now. I know this is what I have to do. I’m not depressed. I’m not anxious. I’m not fearful.

Just because I look back on a life full of pain and say that it’s not worth living anymore doesn’t mean I’m crazy. It means I’ve given up on people. It means I’ve given up on life. It means I’ve given up.

I have nothing more left to give to society. I’m worthless. No one would notice my being gone. If they do, then ultimately they would be better off without me. This is a good thing.

In a month and two days I will go through with it. I’m starting to interview to change jobs but I wonder what the point is. Is it just a waste of time to try to move when I don’t even want to live? If I’m going to kill myself I want my life insurance policy to pay out. Usually there is a waiting period on suicide. The one I’m under now, I’ve met that waiting period. If I move jobs I’ll have to wait another five years for the life insurance to cover it. I can’t get through another five years. I need this to happen now.

Why is it considered ok to kill an unborn baby but I’d be considered crazy for killing myself? Why can’t I be granted that power without being looked down upon? I guess it doesn’t matter. No one cares anyway. This will be no different.

E will be happy. Everyone will be happy that I’m gone.

I just want to be held right now. I want someone to tell me through my tears that I mattered. That they still love me even though I’m not strong enough to do this. To do something everyone else gets through so easily… to live. That even though I’m a failure, I’m still loved.

I need to talk to someone badly. But I don’t know who anymore. Everyone gets frustrated listening to me since I never get better. I wish the tears would stop. I wish life would stop.

I’m scared. I’m alone.

If I didn’t reach out to people to stay in touch no one would do the same to me. No one, but two people, would check on me. I wonder how long I’ll be dead before people realize that I’m gone? Will they ever realize I’m gone? Or am I just a shadow to everyone? Hidden in the darkness…

12/05/2018

I want to slip out of this world quietly.

I want someone to hug me one last time. Someone to tell me that I mattered to someone. That the pain I go through living was worth it to someone.

I want to go to sleep and never wake up. I want to have eternal rest. I’m tired. There’s no amount of sleep that will help.

I’m scared of living. I’m scared of dying. God help me, I know what the next step has to be. Please don’t judge me or my family for it.

I’m alone in the pain. I don’t have anyone I can have a candid conversation with about this. Even if I did, I’m afraid that there’s not much they can say to convince me otherwise. And I don’t want another person to feel guilty for not being able to save me. So I have to do this alone.

Just as I have lived, I shall die…alone.

Counseling

I have another counseling appointment. Truth is, I’m tired of opening up to people. I’m tired of trusting people. She wants me to do individual counseling with another therapist. I have to open up to someone else. I have to put myself out there and hope that I’m accepted. That I won’t be judged.

And at the end of the day, I’m not sure it will change anything. I will still want to die.

Why should I trust when I will still go through with killing myself. I don’t want another person involved. I don’t want another person to feel guilty for not being able to save me. If I push people away and not let them in, then it will be easier to go through with this. And no one will feel guilty for what I did.. there will be no one.

Hidden Demons

I laid on the sofa, thinking of everything that’s happened lately. The rush of emotions overtook me, and I just started crying.

It was the perfect day to do it. I had taken the day off. I was completely alone. My husband was out of town, would be back early enough to pick up the kids. He would come home first, and get the note, alone. He would be able to have time to process what happened before picking up the kids. He would find the body and have it removed before the kids saw. W wouldn’t remember me. S would only have a few memories of me.

W locked S out of the bathroom this morning. She melted down because she was afraid of being separated from me, that she would never see me again. I opened up the door and hugged her and told her I would always be here for her. I lied to her to calm her down. What happens if I’m not strong enough?

I answered no to a question that I should have answered yes to. I said I was ok, when I really wanted to say that I was scared and needed someone to sit with me. That in that moment, I needed someone to tell me I was wanted. I said I wasn’t going to do it, when more than anything I wanted to.

I took a walk, figuring either it would be the last walk, or it would calm me down. I remembered how close we were to Christmas. That more than anything, I want my kids to have a happy Christmas. That I didn’t want them to have to bury me before it. It’s something to keep me going. But after that, what is there? I live from one small milestone to the next, not knowing what will be that thing I need to have hope in to make it to the next day.

My husband asked me what I wanted for Christmas. The truth is nothing… I’m not sure how much longer after Christmas I can make it. I don’t want stuff bought specifically for me, just to have to give it away after I die.

There’s so much to talk about, so many hidden demons that have been stuffed in a small closet. I can’t keep the door shut. Anytime one thing is remembered, everything overwhelms me.

I’m exhausted from the crying and fighting the thoughts. And the exhaustion is making it harder to fight everything. It’s a vicious cycle. And I’m losing.

Forgive me please

I need someone to talk to. Badly. Someone who gets how I feel. Someone I don’t have to talk to but gets the pain without having to put it into words. Someone sitting beside me, not screens away.

However, I’m busy pushing everyone away. I’m fine. I’ve been like this for years. I’ll be ok. I don’t need help. Until I’m left alone, praying for someone to text or call. Trying to hold back the flood of tears. A wall between me and them. Protection. A shell. Hell. Pure hell. A lonely shell. A reminder I’m not worth anything.

I’m scared as shit. And I haven’t been like this in years. The pain isn’t numb anymore. The feelings are overwhelming. It’s hard to hide them. It’s hard to hide the tears.

Someone can tell me that I should look at things logically. That I shouldn’t let words hurt me. They do. They hurt alot.

“It wouldn’t matter if you died” … “We don’t need you, we got along fine without you” well, let’s test that. Let’s really test it. As a reward, you get the life insurance money.

Well I’m here to tell you, words matter. Words matter a lot. And I don’t care how many times someone tells me that I matter, I will still remember that everyone gets along fine without me. That it won’t matter if I died.

I’m scared.

I’m alone.

I’m hurting.

I don’t have the strength to pull myself out this time. I don’t want to pull myself out this time. I don’t want to constantly fight this. I want this to be the end.

Alone

I’m completely alone with the thoughts. I don’t know who to turn to, where to go. Nights hurt a lot.

I’ve started cutting again. I feel the blade cut my skin. First one arm, then the other. But I’m still numb. I turn my arm over. I want to just run the blade down the middle, over the main vein. Let the blood flow out. Give up. I don’t. I just cry.

I got so close that day. All I had to do was press down. How come I couldn’t press down? How come I turned around and went back home? It was probably one of the closest times I’ve ever had. And I just couldn’t do it. I wanted to so badly. Every one says I won’t do it. Maybe they are right. Maybe I am just doomed to live this life forever. I don’t want them to be right. I want there to be a light at the end of the tunnel. I want this to be the light at the end of the tunnel. But it’s not… Yet.

He wouldn’t care. He’s told me they get along fine without me. He’s told me he wouldn’t be sad if I died. He’s told me to leave and never come back. He’s told me no one else would love me. I believe him. I believe all of that. I believe no one would love me. I believe if I leave, I would be alone the rest of my life.

My oldest gave me a hug the other day. Told me she didn’t want me to leave. I was taken aback by it. I’m going to let her down. I’m going to fail in her eyes. But I can’t keep doing this.

I can’t keep living this way. Something’s got to give. I’ll leave behind life insurance. E will be able to pay off the house. No one will need money. They won’t need me.

Nothing matters anymore. I’m alone. That’s the best place to be right now. Less people to hurt. Less people to say good bye to. Less people to notice.

Struggling Considerably

I realized this morning that yesterday would likely be my last birthday. Considering how hard they are for me to get through that is a relief. For some reason though, it still hit hard.

The last session I had with my counselor she mentioned that she had no issue letting me go. While I want to die, I likely won’t do it considering how long I’ve wanted to and the fact I haven’t. I agreed at first. Honestly, though, it hurts now. It downplays how much I’m hurting. I’m in excruciating emotional pain. It’s almost like a dare. Well if you haven’t done it so far, you likely won’t do it. Everyone reaches their limit. And my limit has been reached.

I wish there was a way to kill myself that I could just go to sleep and not wake up. Bonus points if I didn’t know what would be the last time that I wouldn’t wake up. Like a surprise to me too. I pray for cancer. For some disease doctors can’t fix so that I don’t have to do this at my hand. I know that sounds bad. It is hard for me to watch all these people full of life with cancer thinking they have so much left to give and I’m over here just taking up space.

I want this to end. I need this to end.