Friday, February 10, 2012

Questions

Is this the last time you are going to feel like this? 

Do you think you will feel better by the weekend?

Holy fuck.

How do I answer those kinds of questions?

I keep telling myself that this is hard on him.  I know it is. 

I know it is.  Because I've lived in a house with a ranting suicidal maniac.  But I'm not like that.

I'm just quiet.  Writing here these past few days is the most I have ever talked about feeling this bad.  But I have yet to scream and yell; throw things or make threats. 

At my mother's worst, she showed up on the door step of my apartment and slit her wrists.  She lived that time but it was fucked up to say the least.  It also made suicide real to me. 

A person.  Distress.  Blade.  Blood.  Tears.  Anguish.  In a way it began to desensitize me.

My sister.  I saw that through to completion.  It's hard to look at someone so beautiful with half their skull gone to relieve pressure without euthanizing a piece of your soul. 

Yesterday I went to the apartment where my mother slit her wrists.  I went to the door step without knowing what I was supposed to be looking for.  I stared for a minute and then I left.

I then drove to my sister's old townhouse.  Where she ended her own life.  I looked out the window of my car searching for a hint of lingering.  I didn't see her.  The porch had pretty pots full of pansies.  Someone who lives there is happy enough to care about flowers.  I pretended the flowers were for my sister instead.

I stopped short of going by my parent's house where my mother ultimately succeeded.  That was probably a good idea.  Lots of other bad things happened there too.

It is probably morbid to do these things.  I'm probably not supposed to even think about them.  And I bet writing this in black and white is even worse.  But I wanted to see what it felt like.  As if they had a disease that was catching.  And I want to know what makes me immune.

So to answer his first question; is this the last time I'm going to feel like this? 

Yes, has a certain finality to it.  And probably not the answer he really wants even if he doesn't realize it.

No.  Well, I don't want this to be the answer because I hate feeling like this.

I don't know is really the only answer I can give. 

I try to do the right things; I go to therapy, I see a shrink, I take my meds {mostly}, I write, and I would like to think that I am getting better at actually verbalizing what is in my head. 

So I don't know if all the right things add up to erasing suicidal thoughts forever.  My other thought is that I think far more people think about suicide than will admit to considering it as an out.  It's taboo right along with admitting to struggling with a mental illness.  But I can't be the only one.

I sincerely hope to push past this.  It's an exhausting way to live.  I just said that word again... hope.

And to answer his second question, sure.  Which falls under the category of if you ask a stupid question, you'll get a stupid answer.

I keep telling myself that this is hard for him.

11 comments:

JeannetteLS said...

OfCOURSE it is hard for him... but I keep wishing he would step back and go, "Well, yeah... but it's harder for HER to live there." Feh.

Shit.

I DO think you are doing everything humanly possible to move toward feeling better. What else can one person do, for Heaven's sake?

My family chose to kill themselves by nasty, horrifying inches. Mom and Jack with alcohol--liver failure. I remember my mother saying to me and only me, "Now that I've finally succeeded in killing myself, I realize I want to live. Ain't that a kicker?"

"Yeah, Mom. A Kicker." Shit.

My daughter used bulimia, alcoholism, living with a cocaine dealer and delivering pizza in the middle of the night to the area of town with the highest crime rate. She said to me, "I know I need help, Jeannette. I know. I really am in trouble with all this. I promise I'll work on something in the fall." She died two weeks later. The only reason we figured out WHERE she died were the chalk lines and broken down door of her mother's house.

You know the drill. My nephew hanged himself. My brother, the one who saved me repeatedly, he died of liver disease at 50.

Different suicides than the ones you had to witness. But how can we NOT sometimes feel that the ground is not solid and our souls less solid still? I wish I knew precisely when it was that I knew for real I would not ever let myself get too far down those thoughts' lane. It was not my husband or kids. Or friends. Yes, some of it was the toolkit my counselor gave me.

Maybe it was that I had art and writing to do. My passions. I had passions. I don't know. I was a caregiver and there seemed always to be someone who needed attention--perhaps that was my excuse to stay here.

But when all we have truly been given were examples of self-destruction--my family was TRULY creative there--it is no easy task to build from scratch as ADULTS new patterns that can actually become habit.

I do not know how old you are. By the time I finally was about 43, in 1995, even as bad as things had been when my daughter died and my husband left... Depression was there, but not so much the suicidal thoughts. And it began to get better and better from that standpoint--I could separate myself more, if that makes sense.

Had a slip, but I ASKED FOR HELP that time, before it got away from me. I talked myself away from that edge. And I don't think it will be an edge for me again.

I don't THINK.

And I keep saying I know I'm not you because I don't want you to feel I think I have the answers. I gradually found some for ME and put my trust in friends, rather than traditional family.

In my core, I still sense that this deep sharing you are allowing? It will make a difference for you. And it may seem inperceptible at first, but I remember at 43 I looked BACK and went, "WOA. I really HAVE improved."

If this is too long, I will understand if you want to delete it. Truly. I can't help but want to write to you while you are dealing with this, even if it can't help much. Take care. I'll be away for the weekend--But I will catch up on whatever you write by Monday.

Breathe when you think of it please! I've found that passing out doesn't help me that much... Who knew?

Patricia Singleton said...

I agree with Jeannette. She sounds like a good friend. Yes, your husband has it hard. So did my husband. My husband and I got through those terrible years because of my writing which was how I figured out what I was feeling. My feelings were shut down when I was a child so that I could survive incest.

Suicide is so final and so full of angry and hurt for the people who are left behind. One reason that I have never considered suicide is that I believe in reincarnation and the thought that if I end my life too soon that I will come back in another life to face the same situation except worse without a way to escape next time. That is just my belief. If it helps, borrow it.

Writing has been my saving grace. If I can write it down, I can see it and maybe feel whatever I am wanting to hide from. I can figure out what to do if I can see it.

Healing isn't easy work but you are worth the effort. Tell your husband that your healing may take time but you both are worth it. My husband and I will celebrate our 40th anniversary in August so I know that you can get past the worse of the pain.

Our most difficult time was when I was learning to feel the rage that I had stuffed down for so long and had to learn how to not let it hurt myself or those I loved. That took me about 4 years. Those were the worst but we did finally get past it. You can too.

Anonymous said...

My heart feels so drawn to you. I am so incredibly sorry for your pain. And though our stories are different- I can relate to you in so many ways.

I have struggled with self harm tendancies my whole life. And have driven the path down memory lane to old homes where I experienced incredible pain. It's almost like I am trying to make the pain less. Or see if I imagined the things that happen. Or, find a way to make my pain real without having to further harm myself.I know your heart must be hurting and grieving so much right now.... that's a painful path to go down.

I am proud of you! You are so courageous. To recognize the places where you need help- to get it. AND I think you answered the questions he asked as honestly as you could have. You are very brave.

I just want to share that doing the "right things" do help eventually. For me, I used to think about suicide daily. Eventually, after much couseling, healing, more couseling, another layer of healing :) I am not as bound my those thoughts anymore. I am not saying they are completely gone- but I guess I am better able to recognize what is going on in my heart now. I recognize my triggers better now- and have found freedom from a lot of that pain. I HATE that healing is such a big process- and takes so much time!

I am praying for you- that you find freedom and healing. And that you can find a happy medium between hope and despair. (I too struggle with the word "hope!) Maybe... peace.

You have a beautiful heart.

Anonymous said...

My heart feels so drawn to you. I am so incredibly sorry for your pain. And though our stories are different- I can relate to you in so many ways.

I have struggled with self harm tendancies my whole life. And have driven the path down memory lane to old homes where I experienced incredible pain. It's almost like I am trying to make the pain less. Or see if I imagined the things that happen. Or, find a way to make my pain real without having to further harm myself.I know your heart must be hurting and grieving so much right now.... that's a painful path to go down.

I am proud of you! You are so courageous. To recognize the places where you need help- to get it. AND I think you answered the questions he asked as honestly as you could have. You are very brave.

I just want to share that doing the "right things" do help eventually. For me, I used to think about suicide daily. Eventually, after much couseling, healing, more couseling, another layer of healing :) I am not as bound my those thoughts anymore. I am not saying they are completely gone- but I guess I am better able to recognize what is going on in my heart now. I recognize my triggers better now- and have found freedom from a lot of that pain. I HATE that healing is such a big process- and takes so much time!

I am praying for you- that you find freedom and healing. And that you can find a happy medium between hope and despair. (I too struggle with the word "hope!) Maybe... peace.

You have a beautiful heart.

Anonymous said...

I am sorry- I don't comment often on blogs- and I did not mean to post that twice. I can't figure out how to take one of them off!!! So sorry....

erin said...

that you say anything of my bravery is startling.

you, my dear brave heart. you.)))

it is good to meet you.

xo
erin

Shattered said...

Jeannette, you have had so many losses. I'm so sorry for what you have had to go through. I'm glad that you found help and healing!

Shattered said...

Patricia,

Thank you for your perspective on how this affects a marriage. My husband is a good guy and I really do want a good, healthy marriage.

Shattered said...

Homeheartandhaven,

It's so helpful to hear that you struggled with self-harm and suicidal thoughts but came out of it by doing the "right things". I'm working on finding peace; that seems to be a good stepping stone to hope.

Shattered said...

Erin,

I suppose we are all brave in our own way...

Deborah said...

Still here, still reading, still thinking about you. You are understood and helped by others in ways that I can't.