I’ve hit it.
I spent most of Saturday in my local hospital unable to stop crying, struggling for the breath to explain that all I wanted to do was kill myself.
Thankfully I have a wonderful husband who was able and willing to stick with me through all this, without him and the kids I would not be alive today.
I’ve been having suicidal thoughts for years. The earliest happened when I was nine. I say earliest, that’s the earliest where the memory is clear, and I know what the trigger was, but I don’t think it was actually the earliest. But this weekend there was a really good chance that I would actually have done something stupid.
Thing is, I’ve seen the families left behind by suicide, and it’s not easy for them. The devastation is not something I would wish on the people I love. And it is love that’s finally helping me pull myself together.
The diagnosis was ‘severe depression’, textbook case apparently. That didn’t exactly come as a surprise. Like most depressives, I know it’s building up, and like most depressives, I do what I can to mask it, this time however, I lost any ability to cope.
Today, I gave myself a metaphorical kick in the head. This is my body. This is my life. I have to take control.
So I’m going to.
This blog is about to become on part of my selfcare treatment. Short, no more than 300 words, bursts of info on what I’m doing to help myself. Most of the time they won’t be major changes, but there will be changes.
I have no idea if people will respond to this or not, if anyone will even read it. But there again, I’m doing this for me. Responses are welcome it you want to.
The Write Route 