[edit— this post may be more explicit than intended to… so for those who get triggered by suicide posts, be cautious when reading. thanks for reading, friend.]
i’ve been struggling.
struggling to keep positive and happy.
i am sitting here, focusing on nothing really and a bunch of random, depressing things came across my mind.
i remembered something about last week…
i am at my parents house… i just got home. my siblings and parents are in the kitchen making themselves dinner. the kids say hi and i hug them as they pass by me.
i remember having an awful day. it was the day after my brothers’ friend’s dog had just died. i remember feeling like it was all my fault and that i should not have been there, at my brother’s place.
i went to the bathroom to wash my face. before i changed into more comfortable clothes, i looked at myself in the mirror. i looked awful. my smile was non-existent, the frown was inevitable. i wanted to cry to make myself feel better, but couldn’t. i looked disgusted at the sight of me.
after i changed, i really didn’t feel eating even though i had not eaten anything at all that day. i just couldn’t bring myself up to doing anything.
so i just laid down on my uncomfortable futon. i put in my headphones to drown the background noise of the kids and the television. i just didn’t want to deal or approach anything. i felt sick.
i laid there and i started crying… i cried because i felt so responsible for recent things that had happenned. i friend because i felt so insecure, useless, worthless…
i laid there and i was crying and whispering to myself… what is wrong with me? why am i like this?
with my little space being literally being in middle of the living room, against the wall, no one in the house seemed to even know that i was crying.
i thought to myself… is it even worth being here. at that point i started to think about suicide again. i got up and went to the bathroom again.
i locked the door and searched for something that could hurt me. i remember trying to find something that could just take the pain away for that moment.
i couldn’t find anything. i was at a low. i ended up crying even more…
i got out of the bathroom and just laid back down.
no one asked me if i was going to eat, no one really even acknowledged my existence from the time i walked in and said hello to the kids.
i felt like a ghost.
then i remembered… it has always been like this. me, feeling like the ghost in the family.
i remembered the first time i ever tried to commit suicide. i was in the my most beloved place… my high school tennis courts. i had a blade on my neck and i was ready to slit my own throat.
i remember walking around with the blade in my hand and my best friend at the time showed up to stop me. i was so scared. that was where i had really hit rock bottom.
i remember slitting my wrist and taking a picture of it and sending it to my close friends. i captioned it… “is this what it has come to?”
only two people replied.
my mom called freaking out… crying… asking me why i would do this to myself.
i couldn’t explain it to her. at that time, i felt like it was my only option. a way to get away from all the pain i was going through.
but she didn’t seem to understand. she never did and never will.
my dad or stepmom didn’t even come to check on me. after they found out, they just threatened to call 911. they didn’t come to see if i was okay… i sure they cared. but not really enough to even come to help me. to save me.
i remember feeling disgusted in myself. i felt worthless enough to think that i was not savable to my parents. i wish i could tell them how i really feel about it, because it still hurts me so much. i can’t believe they would not help me. it hurts just thinking about it.
i can never forgive them for doing nothing…
i mean, am i just overreacting? please, someone tell me.
am i just hanging this over their heads for nothing?
i don’t know. i will never know. i can never talk to them about this or that anymore.
i realized something recently.
when both of my parents are gone, they have my step-grandma watch the kids. which i totally understand. the oldest is fourteen year’s old and youngest, six years old. granted the older child, my little brother, has down syndrome. he can be managed with out my parents being around. he is a easy going kiddo.
anyway… i realized that when i come home from work before my parents, my step-grandma will not leave until my parent’s come home.
i learned after three times that has happened that my parent’s do not trust me to watch the kids for the remainder of the time until they come home.
i never really understood until i was laying there on the futon crying.
i didn’t realize that they didn’t trust me because of my past of trying to commit suicide.
that definitely and still does make me feel at my absolute worst.
it my siblings. i would never do anything intentionally to hurt them. i love them with all of my heart. they are one of the reasons i keep on keeping on. i love them to death.
but i lost all of that trust. and i don’t think i can ever regain it.
i just want to move out. i don’t think i can take any of me living there anymore. i need out.
i’ve got to get some sleep. it’s getting late for me… until next time.
be well, my friend.