A Life Saved… For Now.

a life saved...

 

 

*Suicide theme*

 

 

The other night I was left with no other choice but to phone the Samaritans, for the third time in my life. It was past 1am again, I was at breaking point… the emotions were too strong I actually felt I would explode – obviously I wouldn’t have, but that’s the point where things are most dangerous for people like me…. that’s often why we engage in destructive coping mechanisms, to try and bring the emotions down, for fear of what will happen if we don’t.

 

I don’t know what would have happened if I didn’t call them. All I know is I sat with the phone number in my phone for about twenty minutes, hesitating… talking myself out of it and then back into it by letting my feelings in. All the other possible coping strategies were whizzing around my mind and I realised none of them would work. It was basically phone the Samaritans or end it somehow.

 

As usual I didn’t know what to say at first, but I told them how alone I feel. I told them about losing my best friend because of my illness. I told them about losing my only other friend to suicide. And then I broke down.

 

She said how sorry she was about that. She then very quickly asked if I had contemplated suicide myself. And it’s the first time I’ve been completely honest about my feelings and intentions. I straight away said yes. I was still in tears, so I don’t remember everything said, but I told her how suicidal I felt before losing my friend six months ago and that now it’s all I think about. She asked if I had a plan. I said not a plan as such, but that I’m looking at ways to do it…. that I’m closer to having a plan than I’ve ever been before.

 

At one point she asked something about in three years time can I see it being better…. I was honest and told her I can’t see me being here by then. I don’t think I’ll be here in a year. I didn’t tell her I can’t even see me having another Christmas, but that might just be my immediate feelings anyway. I am struggling with the thought of Christmas this year.

 

When I talked about my grief, she pointed me in the direction of help for that. She also said that people who lose someone to suicide are at a higher risk of taking their own lives too. I was already aware of this – that’s why I’ve needed people to support me in the aftermath, as I was already suicidal and my mental illness puts me at a higher risk of suicide anyway, without adding the effects of losing someone to it.  She also said that the grief associated with a suicide is totally different to ‘normal’ grief, in that it’s more complex. Again I knew that. But it was helpful to hear it said by someone else…. it was validating of what I was experiencing. I wish the people in my life were aware of all this and could do more to help me. Maybe I wouldn’t have got to the point I had to choose between this phone call and death.

 

At one point I was talking about the anger I felt at my friend. I said it wasn’t hateful anger…. just anger at the situation I guess. She then said something very insightful and true…. she asked if perhaps I envied my friend. And I said yes. I said I wish I could’ve gone with her.

 

I have never been that honest about suicidal feelings… for fear of what would happen as a result. But these people are very respectful. She even said to me that they want me to stay alive, but it’s my decision what to do with my life, and they’ll have my back whatever I decide. Even at the lowest point if I should reach that moment, I can still have them on the end of the phone. That made everything feel very real…. like there really is the possibility I will end it in the not too distant future. It scared me. But I liked how they weren’t forcing me to stay…. there was no judgement whatsoever. She said she was pleased I made the call.

 

I have never been that honest about suicidal feelings... for fear of what would happen as a result. But these people are very respectful. She even said to me that they want me to stay alive, but it

 

 

We talked about how my family would feel if I ended it. I explained they’re the only reason I’m still here. But I told her I almost resent them for it, and I feel trapped…. because I have to stay alive in order to not hurt them…. but it means me living in pain and a world I just can’t survive in. She said I need more reasons to live than that… otherwise it would cause me to resent the only people I have left and could make things worse in the end….

 

I talked about my Godchildren and how they used to be a reason for me to live. She wondered if I could be enough of a reason myself …  I said no. I told her how much I hate myself… and how losing my best friend, along with everything else that’s happened, has completely dragged my self-worth through the floor. I don’t currently see myself as worth continuing to live for.

 

She asked if I hadn’t lost these people from my life would I be considering ending my life right now… I said probably not as much, no. I said if my best friend hadn’t abandoned me, she could have supported me through the suicide of my other friend, and I could’ve survived it. And if that friend had not taken her life, I would have a friend now…. everything would be different…. I wouldn’t be this alone. The reality is it’s these two major losses in the space of a couple of months…. my two longest friendships of 13+ years…. gone… leaving me with nothing and nobody. That’s what has ruined me and brought me to this point of suicidality. Everything would be different, and I’d be able to live if both or even just one of these things hadn’t happened. That’s why after my friend’s death I reached out to my former best friend, as I wanted that resolved… I wanted her support and friendship…. I couldn’t cope with both things – even hours after hearing the news I had to not have both losses. She texted me a couple of times with support, but then disappeared and I’ve not heard from her in six months. That was it. I had to face both losses, even though I couldn’t. I didn’t have a choice. She didn’t want our friendship back. A traumatic loss and me being left alone to cope with it, feeling suicidal myself, was not enough reason for her to care and fix things with me. It’s how little she cared, that she could wash her hands of me so coldly. That’s what damaged me. It’s taken an already complex kind of grief and complicated it even further. My friend’s suicide gave me that feeling of how stupid it is to not be friends with my former best friend – that life is too short to hold grudges…. I honestly felt we should and could sort it out at that point. I wanted to let it all go, as some things mattered more. Now I feel more rejected than ever…. it was at least the third time I’d tried to open the door again, and had it slammed in my face. I’m a glutton for punishment. I get the message she’s done with me now, for good. She’s too busy being friends with the person who hurt me before and came between us three years ago…. Anyway….

 

We talked about grief and mental illness and how people struggle to empathise if they’ve not been there… and how they can be afraid of saying the wrong thing, so they leave it alone and say nothing at all. I told her I wish they’d just say something, like ‘I hope you’re okay’…. ‘How are you?’ … ‘Thinking of you’…. something to make me feel I’m not invisible.

 

We talked about my mental health – how long I’ve been struggling. I said 18 years…. I went on to explain the reasons it went downhill in the last couple of years. I said I’m the worst I’ve ever been. When I was a teenager things were bad, but I didn’t have real problems – I said I don’t know what my problem was back then…. she said something like ‘teenager’s prerogative’ – she gave me a couple of moments of humour to pick me up a bit.

 

We talked for 48 minutes… the longest call to them I’ve ever had. It didn’t feel like 48 minutes. Time goes quicker in the middle of the night though! I told her that although it didn’t fix everything – it doesn’t change how things are – it made me feel less alone in that moment.

 

I got through that night without hurting myself or worse. I also didn’t have to use my emergency medication. I just made the right choices for once in my life. I’m still struggling. The night times are the worst. Hopefully if it happens again I’ll make that call again. Things really aren’t okay at all right now. The feelings that led to me needing to make the call, they are still there right now…. I have to contain them as much as I can. But it’s very difficult. One person could do something to end all this pain and trauma for me. But they don’t care. They never did and never will. They’ve moved on. They are responsible for where I am now and what happens to me. They broke my spirit. And the only people I have left to try and save my life are the Samaritans.

 

I don’t even know the name of the woman I spoke to that night. But I truly thank her for giving her time to just listen and support. Two things other people just wouldn’t give me. This total stranger answered the phone in the middle of the night and talked to me, about all the things I’ve needed to talk about for the last six or so months. Whatever happens in the future she helped me so much that night, and I can’t repay her for what she did. The Samaritans are like angels – we just have to call out to them when we need them.

 

 

The Samaritans are like angels - we just have to call out to them when we need them.

6 Months Broken.

6 Months Broken

*Touches on suicide*

 

Dear Liv,

 

I miss you so immensely. You know that. You’re about the only one who knows that. Nobody else sees what losing you has done to me. They think you’re just someone I talked to online occasionally. But you and I know the extent of our friendship. Only, there’s only me left to attest to that. So I face the pain of missing you, entirely alone. I may have only got to see you once in my life… seven years ago…. something I’ll always treasure…  but I’ve known you a lot longer than that.

 

I knew you when you were about 17. We used to talk on the forum about Westlife. We’d also support each other. But Westlife was our escape from our demons. I remember sending a picture of ourselves so we could put a face to a name. Then we became Facebook friends. Our bond grew over the years. When times were tough for you I would offer words of support and remind you how wonderful you were. I didn’t understand eating disorders, so I always felt pretty useless when it came to that, but I did what I could. I didn’t know the right thing to do or say…. at times I’d see photos of you and I’d be worried, as you didn’t look well, but I knew those sorts of demons feed off of how people perceive you, so I didn’t want to make you worse. I should have said something though. I sent you some minion themed presents one time as I wanted to cheer you up. And you were always there for me too.

 

You were my biggest champion…. you never let me put myself down. You always reminded me that I mattered, that my feelings mattered and that I deserved love and happiness. You never let me feel alone.

 

You read all my blogs and watched my video journals too. You supported me when people were unkind. And when I made mistakes and said things that may have offended people, I apologised and you forgave me and acknowledged me fixing my error. You never held anything against me. You never judged me. You always understood me. I never once fell out with you. You were everything I could ever ask for in a friend. I just wish you could see what I and so many others could see in you. And now you’re not here to know how heartbroken we are without you. I say ‘we’ like I’m part of a community of people missing you…. I’m not. I’m so alone with this. There are people out there who are supporting each other in their grief… a lot appear to have just ‘moved on’ and have stopped talking about you. And then there’s me. I don’t know the other people who knew you. They don’t know I exist or how much I’m hurting now. And the people in my life never even ask if I’m okay. Friends, family… everyone…. they have no clue how on the edge I am. They don’t know the pain I’m in. They don’t mention your name, and seem uncomfortable when I mention it.

 

Nobody likes pain or grief. They steer clear of people who are experiencing both. That’s been the hardest part of losing you. As you knew, I lost my best friend because of my mental health, a few months before you went. You were all I had left. You were so good to me with my grief for my granddad. You were the one who guided me through it… told me what pitfalls to look out for, and how to look after myself. You supported me and didn’t run away from my grief. You really were an angel in my life. Now you’re gone there’s nothing. There’s nobody to take your place… they never could anyway. But they’ve all dispersed.

 

The hardest part of losing someone to death, is losing all those who are living as well…  and losing so much of yourself in the process. I’ve spiralled this year…. I’ve fallen into a pit of grief and isolation…. pain and grief make others uncomfortable, so they turn away and remain silent…. this worsens the feeling of loneliness… the grief intensifies, the mental health deteriorates and people avoid you even more…. I really have got to the point I don’t fear what I say anymore – I have nothing left to lose.

 

It’s so difficult to experience this sort of grief…. to not have my best friend and my Godchildren to keep me going….. to not have you there to help me….. to not have anyone else asking how I am, if I need anything, or acknowledging you ever existed and the pain I feel at losing you. Other people who are grieving seem to get showered with support and kind words. But it’s a violent slap of silence when it comes to me. I’ve always had this problem, but somehow when you were alive it helped…. more people would talk to me if you talked to me…. and if they didn’t then at least I had you to talk to, plus I didn’t have a whole chunk of my heart ripped out by losing you.

 

The silence is the deafening cliché. Life is empty…. yet every moment is filled with overpowering emotions, too dark and dangerous for one person to feel. I have urges to run to every person from my past – to beg for their friendship…. to beg for answers and closure…. to get revenge…. to open up old wounds and make me feel enough pain to do whatever it is you did to leave this world….. to just not be this alone. I want someone to care…. I want to do almost anything to get just one person to care. I need the therapist I had feelings for… it’s where my mind runs to every time. But I also want to connect with friends who hurt me in the past – because I can’t cope with the fact my former best friend is now friends with them all after hurting me so badly. I want to hurt her back, so much, but I don’t have the means. I’m not friends with her friends…. I can’t do the things to her that she’s done to me, to make her know how it feels. I hate I’m this vengeful person. I hate how desperate I’ve become. But I can’t do this life anymore. I couldn’t do it even before you left me behind. Why did you have to leave me behind? Why couldn’t I come with you?

 

You left me, five weeks before I would finally see you again. Before we would see Westlife together in the front row. My ‘dream come true’ became something traumatic to get through. It still haunts me that you should’ve been there with me. And that I never got the chance to see you and give you a hug. You didn’t give me the chance to save you. If I’d known then I could’ve done something or said something. I wish you had given me that opportunity. You didn’t even say goodbye. How long had you been planning to go? When we were planning to meet up before the show, did you know then that you would never see me? How could you do that to me? You said you’d go with me, after I lost my usual Westlife buddy….. but then you didn’t go with me…. I won’t go into all the detail – you’d have seen the chaos at that time. What I had to put myself through to not be going alone. It was degrading…. it was heartbreaking and traumatic, given my childhood.

 

I know you were obviously experiencing something that was too powerful to overcome. Maybe one day I’ll understand more…. it’s hard when you don’t know much about it…. when you don’t know if it was intentional / planned or if it was just self-harm gone wrong and you didn’t mean to die… I don’t know how it happened, if there was a note etc. – I’m not sure I want to know, but it makes it hard to come to terms with it all when you don’t know. So many questions flash through my mind….

 

Most of the time I remember you with love and I try and honour the memory of you in my everyday life. But as you’ll know I have my times I’m angry towards you. I know this is something you wouldn’t want, and some say it’s wrong to be angry about someone taking their own life, but sadly it’s a part of the grief. It’s all the ‘should’ve beens’ and the ‘what ifs’ and the ‘never to be’ moments… it’s feeling robbed of goodbye and of a chance to stop it from happening. I should’ve done more. But I can never do that, and now you’re gone forever. There are no second chances with suicide.

 

People who say that the pain someone feels from losing someone to suicide cannot compare with the pain someone felt to choose suicide, I unfortunately hope they experience that sort of loss for themselves, as they clearly never have…. maybe then they’ll learn what utter tosh that is to spout. Suicide breeds suicide. They obviously don’t realise that. Even people without mental health issues consider suicide after losing a loved one to it. I was already suicidal before you left me. Now it’s the only thing on my mind. It’s a given that I’m likely not going to be here in a year’s time. I’ve almost given up on everything as what’s the point? I’m making plans yet thinking it’s a waste of money – I won’t be here. There was even talk of getting a piano, and I thought … don’t waste the money… I won’t be here for much longer. Do you know how depressing that is? … Yeah, I guess you do.

 

Mental illness is a funny thing…. to an outsider you had it all…. you had your partner…. you had Squish Squish…. you had your new place… you had your job with the police finally… we were seeing Westlife back together, in the front row…. a lot of people valued you and loved you… you could see it from the outpouring of grief when you went. Yet it wasn’t enough to stay. The demons won. And then there’s me…. I have nothing…. I have nobody but my closest family…. all I have for company are my friends Grief, Paranoia, Isolation and BPD, and a heap of bitterness for having nothing else left.

 

When I go, nobody will cry… nobody will write warmly about me…. nobody will come to my funeral…. nobody will bloody notice! I’ve been calling out for help for two years, and nobody cares. You kept a lot of your feelings hidden. Your videos were always encouraging… positive… caring for others…. you were a good, kind, beautiful person with the most wonderful heart and soul…. people loved you. People loved you and they don’t love me…. because I’m brutally honest about how awful life is. I pour my feelings out and get nothing back. I feel the way to matter to people now, is to stay silent and pretend to be okay. Unfortunately it’s something I’m not sure I can do. It’s why I know my journey will mirror yours… only difference is I made no impact…. I’m a nobody…. if people feel anything when I go it’ll be relief… relief that the negativity that is me, is gone, finally.

 

I’m having difficulties with that though…. when you lose everything and everyone and your one remaining friend ends her life, how can you seem anything but ‘negative’? That’s why I know there’s no way back for me. I have nobody left believing there’s good in me. Nobody fighting for me and for my recovery. Nobody cheering me on. Nothing to live for. Nothing will ever be okay again, not now you’re gone. How am I meant to overcome grief like this when grief is what has driven everyone so far away from me?

 

I’ll tell you, as I have nobody else to tell…. I keep dreaming of my best friend and my Godchildren…. they were all in it the night before last. The night before that I saw my Godson and spoke to him – he felt like nobody liked him… I told him I did… he looked at me funny… I said ‘You don’t remember me do you?’… he shook his head. It hurts so damn much. You were the one person I could confide in and ask advice from about how to handle things…. I shouldn’t have lumped it on you probably. I’m sorry. But you helped me so much, to not give up on myself just because others did… I have nobody to ask about anything anymore. I feel so lost. My life feels empty and pointless. It feels like there’s a brick wall between me and everyone else. I feel like a ghost to them all. You would never have left me feeling like a ghost…. you would hate that people are making me feel this way. You’d do something about it. But you’re not here anymore….

 

In fact six months ago yesterday you left the world. Six months ago tonight I went on Facebook and saw people sending RIP messages to you…. that was how I found out. I vividly remember the feeling… the shock…. the devastation. I remember feeling my spirit draining out of my body. I remember telling my family and breaking down… I remember collapsing on the stairs, hugging the wall, the pain and denial I felt. I remember howling in pain for what felt like hours. I remember how sick I felt. This was all before finding out you had taken your own life. I’d assumed as much anyway. It was the worst nightmare come true. I never wanted to lose you from my life. I’ve lost a lot of friends from my life…. you are the biggest loss, and the way I lost you is the most traumatic thing I’ve ever experienced. I was so scared this would happen one day.

 

I couldn’t sleep or eat. I couldn’t stop crying. I got in touch with my former friend, hoping to have one less loss to contend with… I needed her to be my friend, to help me through losing you. I got a couple of texts, but also got unblocked and re-blocked at the worst point in my life. That was all. And now I’ve had six months without her. Six months with no support from anyone. As you’d know, I’m not coping. I can’t function anymore. I can’t go out. I can’t do anything. I’ve lost all reason to exist. I can’t cope with people – not too big a problem as I don’t exist to most of them anyway. I can’t work. I can’t be around family sometimes. I keep hurting myself, and I want to do worse. My mental health is down the toilet and I have no friends. I have no support yet – I’m still waiting for an assessment. I’m emotionally paralysed.

 

Things are getting harder coming up to Christmas. You loved Christmas so much and I wish I could get into the spirit for you. I’m trying. But deep inside I’m dreading it. I don’t want to see another Christmas. This will be the worst one. Last year was pretty bad with the fallout with my friend, and my efforts being snubbed – being made to feel invisible…. but you were still here then. This is the first one without you here. You’re not here. My granddad’s not here. My friend will not be snubbing me this year, she’s full on blocked me out of her life… I don’t have the children to buy for anymore… no reason to get in the spirit of things. When I look at Christmas decorations in the shops I feel closer to you, but I wander round in a daze, still unable to accept your absence. I feel Christmas is being forced upon me this year. I can’t cope with the fact life is going on without you…. that it hasn’t stopped to allow me to grieve. Time is slipping away and I’m expected to carry on regardless of how I feel. I even remember the job people phoning not even a couple of months after it happened…. and when I said what had happened they asked something like ‘… and it’s still troubling you?’ …. well, yes… it’s called grief. It had only been a few weeks….

 

Do people expect me to just move on and feel nothing about what happened?  Believe me, I wish I was a robot and felt nothing. The pain I feel is too much, and I have no way of releasing it. So I break down, quite often. I have to avoid life to keep safe.

 

I’m trying to look after myself and find interests again…. little reasons to survive another day… I taught myself to solve a Rubik’s cube. I’m trying to take up cross-stitch again… I’ve fetched my colouring books again… I play the guitar when I can. Tiny little steps to find ‘joy’ again. There can be no real joy… that’s how I feel now you’re gone. But if I can find this flat level of joy to just hold on until someone decides they can help me, then I guess that’s something.

 

Sorry to ramble on… I don’t have anyone to talk to anymore. You’re the only one who really cared about me. I feel so alone without you here. As you know, I felt alone before you went. Now the isolation is excruciating. I feel I’m being punished for grieving and being ill. That’s how the last year or two have felt. People don’t get that I’m in enough pain as it is… that I’m suffering enough…. being left alone, with nobody even asking how I am and genuinely caring about the answer, it hurts even more. I honestly do feel I’m being punished, and if I’m that bad a person that I deserve this, then I don’t deserve to live. I don’t want to live. I want to be where you are. I really don’t think I can ever heal now. I don’t want to. The pain, the rage, the powerlessness, the loneliness, the resentment – all of it coursing through me…. all I want to do is rip the world apart, tear a hole in it and throw the people who hurt and abandoned me through that hole, robbing them of their lives just as they have robbed me of mine. I want to destroy everything and everyone. And then I want it all to stop. I want peace.

 

I hope you found peace Liv. I hope you found your mum and that you’re happy together again. I’m so sorry you had to live with that loss for so long and you couldn’t carry on any longer. I don’t blame you. I couldn’t do it. I can’t do it having lost the people I have lost. I just wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish you hadn’t left me. I needed you. I admired you. I was so thankful for you. And now I’m nothing without you. How do I go on when you couldn’t?

 

I’ll be seeing Westlife without you again next year, twice…. if I survive that long. I should be excited. I am, but I’m also upset. I have to go alone to everything like that now. My friend has ditched me, and now you’re not here. So I really am alone. It’s upsetting everyone booking tickets with other people and I’m just left as a loner. I’ll be seeing them on my birthday next year – I’ll be celebrating it on my own as I have nobody to go with now. People don’t realise how that sustained level of isolation affects your self-worth, and therefore your desire to live in this world.

 

I hate that you never saw them perform together again. You never heard their last two songs. I know in the grand scheme of things people would think there’s sadder things than you missing out on Westlife…. I don’t doubt that at all. I know that. But these are personal things to me. Even then, there are more important reasons it’s so tragic you’re gone. It’s as though a light has gone out. There’s one less angel in the world. You really were a blessing to everyone who knew you. You had your demons to fight, and I’m proud of you for how long you fought against them. You inspired me. The strength you showed after your mum died gave me hope I could survive my first loss a couple of years ago. The support you gave me to get through that – by using your experience of loss and mental illness – it was more helpful than you’ll ever know. Now I have nobody to help guide me through losing you. And losing someone to suicide is so different to normal grief. People will dispute that… until it happens to them.

 

I’m thankful to have known you for such a large portion of my life. The rest of the years without you will be the hardest of all to live. I used to tell you how wonderful you were. I wish you’d believed me. No matter how angry I might get at what happened, nothing will change the incredible person you were and how special you were to me. I wish I could be more like you were as a person. You deserve to be here. I don’t. I wish I could’ve taken your pain away and made it bearable for you to be here. So many people are missing out now Liv.

 

I hope you’re with me now and then. I know there’s places you’d rather be – people who mattered more and are in more pain than me. I sometimes feel like a fraud in that sense. My mind sort of minimises my grief, as though I shouldn’t be this broken by it, since others were closer to you or may have even been the ones to find you. I pray for whoever that was that they can heal from the trauma. I can’t even imagine. My feelings of loss must be tiny compared to closest friends and family. I shouldn’t make it about me. I guess my mental illness and the isolation don’t help. When you went I was left with nothing and nobody, so it became harder to deal with than if I was supported. But the reality is you really mattered to me. And I hope I’ll see you again one day.

 

Until then I’ll play Westlife and believe you’re there with me, enjoying their new music. Someone once said to me that you’ll see everything I see through my eyes. I hope they’re right. I love you Liv and I’ll miss you forever my beautiful friend xxxx

 

 

Soon.

Soon

*Suicide theme*

 

 

I never recovered from Adam disappearing on me.
I never recovered from the things Nick said.
I never recovered from the things Joe did.
I never recovered from Gill’s betrayal, and losing her and Sam.
I never recovered from how Hannah treated me.
I never recovered from losing Grampa.
I never recovered from therapy and my attachment to Matt.
I never recovered from being neglected on the first anniversary of my loss.
I never recovered from all the abuse online last year.
I never recovered from the way you treated me.
I never recovered from you ghosting me, like everyone else did.
I never recovered from you blocking me.
I never recovered from Liv taking her own life.
I never recovered from your absence in the wake of that.
I never recovered from losing Chloe and Logan from my life.
I never recovered from losing you.

 

I never recovered.

Not from any of it.

Do you get it now?

Do you understand why I changed?

Do you understand why I’m desperate to end my own life?

I never recovered from any of it. The experiences I had, built up and became too much.

I wasn’t just battling one thing at a time. I was being hit by all of these things over and over again, each time a new loss, a new traumatic event or anything remotely painful occurred.

I can’t recover from any of it. I never will.

And you turning your back on me when you did, that was the terminal moment of my life.

That was the moment I knew I’m destined to take my own life sooner or later.

When I had you I had at least the hope of recovery. I had something worth recovering for. I had the kids. I had someone I thought cared. I had someone who never gave up on me.

But you did.

You gave up on me too.

Now there’s nothing left.

To fight against that mountain of loss and trauma is hard enough.

To have to do it without your best friend by your side is impossible.

To have your best friend jump up and down on top of that mountain, increasing the load, is unbearable.

The worst part is that you never were to understand the layers of trauma and pain I felt.

You could never sympathise, as you didn’t know the mountain of memories and emotions on my shoulders.

You didn’t know the burden I had to carry.

I carried it alone.

I didn’t want to burden you or anyone else.

And somehow I still did.

Even keeping my distance from you, I was still ‘too much’.

You walked away.

In my mind and heart I feel you never thought of me again.

You were happier.

You were free.

You forgot all about me.

You were friends with Sam, with Gill, with Hannah – you replaced me with her.

What a win for them all… to know we’re not friends anymore… that you cut me out.

Eight months… eight months since you blocked me… the first time.

You blocked every way of me connecting with you again.

You moved house, and told me nothing of it.

Can you not see the pain that would cause?

What did I do to deserve all this?

I can’t recover.

I won’t recover.

This is too much.

I have no life to return to if I do recover.

Everything is gone.

Liv is gone. You’re gone. The kids are gone.

Everything has changed.

All the people who were once my friends have grown up and created lives for themselves. You would know – they’re your friends now.

And I’m stuck here. Powerless. Paralysed. Unable to change. Unable to survive. Because you all destroyed me. You all took my trust and my care and crapped all over it. You left me a broken mess on the cold floor. You left me too traumatised to even move anymore.

With you in my life I could see a little light.

Now there’s pitch black.

There’s only the desperate urge to end this life.

There’s silence.

No friends. No connections. Nothing.

Just emptiness and anticipation of death.

You did this to me.

I wish you could’ve understood the weight I carried in my heart and my mind, from all that’s scarred me forever.

I wish you would’ve helped bear the load.

I wish you hadn’t added to the pile.

I remember at therapy, with my attachment to Matt, saying that I knew I was facing another loss, which would add to the pile of loss and pain… the unresolved trauma. I was right. That’s what happened.

A lot has happened since then, to add to that ‘pile’.

You.

Liv.

So much more.

What makes it the worst is I didn’t want any of this.

I didn’t want to lose you.

I mentioned stepping back for my mental health and our friendship.

I never would have blocked you.

You made it permanent.

Why??

Why do you hate me so much?

Do you not understand what you’ve done to me?

Do you honestly want me to kill myself?

Is that it?

Because if not then you’ve gone about everything so utterly wrong.

Do you know that I’ve written you a note for when that time comes…. and something I wanted the kids to know too….God knows how I’ll get it to you, now I don’t know where in the world you live.

But do you really want me to leave this world thinking you mean me harm and hate me? Do you want to have to live with that on your conscience for the rest of your life? That you could’ve sorted things out with me and not pushed me towards this certainty with your cruel abandonment, when I was already breaking under the weight of everything else in the last ten years…

How will you live, knowing you could have done something to prevent this?

I deserved more.

I deserved enough respect to talk to me, and not just abandon me so casually.

Did thirteen years really mean so little to you?

Did I mean so little?

In the last three years a lot has happened…

I had to learn to live in a world with grief in my heart. Real grief. My first loss.

My world changed. I never recovered from that.

I had a breakdown at therapy and went down a slippery slope with my self-harm. I never recovered from that.

I was neglected by everyone… I was isolated whilst experiencing this new grief, and the breakdown of my mental health. I never recovered from that.

I felt you pulling away from me… a long abandonment over about a year. I was right to fear losing you. That fear affected me in ways I never expected. I will never recover from losing you and the kids.

I lost Liv…. five weeks before I was finally set to see her again in person. It would never happen. I’ll never get to talk to her again. I’ll never get over that….. now I want to be with her. I don’t want to exist in this hell of a world, where nothing is right, and nothing is left, and I’m buried under that mountain of hurt and loss. That mountain you stuck your flag in, to claim a victory over me, as you blocked me… taking all the power for yourself to decide when I may talk to you again.

You won.

You defeated me.

Well done.

You were in control.

All the good it’ll do you when I’m gone.

But I feel you don’t care an inch about that.

But let me tell you, from experience…. losing a friend to suicide is one of the most traumatic things you could ever experience…. all the words you never got to say to them…. the questions unanswered…. feeling you could’ve said or done something to stop it happening. It’s a brief moment and they’re gone. You can’t change it. You can’t get them back. You have to live with the burden for the rest of your life. It’s a burden I can’t carry…. not on my own…. not now I’ve lost you too.

But you’ll be alright. You have lots of other friends to help you carry ‘the burden’ of losing me, should you feel anything about it when it happens.

You’ll never have to feel what I feel now.

You’ll never know how alone I’ve felt.

You’ll never know the weight I carried in total isolation.

You’re lucky.

You’ll quickly recover.

You don’t have my illness.

You weren’t screwed over by everyone you ever trusted.

You don’t have my memories.

You’ll survive.

You survived losing me as your friend. You chose it. You’ll survive losing me forever. As far as I know this is it for us forever anyway…. that’s how it feels. So you’ve already adjusted to my absence. It won’t make much difference my being gone.

And you’d better not cry, or come to the funeral – not that I’d have one… nobody would be there.

You could’ve done something… all you had to do was care. All you had to do was put our friendship ahead of your pride. All you had to do was talk to me.

You just had to not walk away from me at the lowest point of my life and treat me like I was nothing.

But then I guess I really am nothing.

If I was anything to you then you would’ve stayed and fought for me, like I tried to do for you.

You wouldn’t have given up.

You wouldn’t have run away.

Everyone runs away.

It’s the biggest sign they never cared.

Nobody ever cared.

I was just a game to them all.

A game of ‘power’.

I’m done being a pawn in a game of ‘control’…. simply used to boost the ego or get something.

I may not deserve more.

I will never have more.

But I’m done.

I won’t be used anymore.

I won’t be ignored anymore.

I won’t be mistreated anymore.

I won’t BE anymore.

Soon.

 

 

 

* Just expressing feelings. I do feel all this, but it’s not imminent,
so nobody worry about me…. not that people tend to…*

Poem: Is This Hell?

 

Am I dead?
Have I departed this life already?
And rather than a ghost that haunts,
I myself am haunted…
Haunted by all I’ve lost, who I was, all who left.
Have I died, or is that yet to come
In some swift act of self-inflicted violence…?
Is this how I die… alone, unloved and in silence?
Can you see me, or see right through me?
Do these words even exist?
If I am dead, then I know for certain I am not missed.
Nobody noticed I wasn’t there.
Nobody cares.
They never would.
Can a ghost feel pain in their chest,
And a never-ending sense of unrest?
Is this Hell, or purgatory?
Am I yet to discover my destination?
Where do broken souls go?
The ones who never found peace in life
And chose death in its place….
Do we linger like this in time and space?
Nowhere to go and can’t move on…
Am I really dead and gone?
Is this all a dream?
Some altered state of reality from which I cannot awaken…
How else could so much have been taken
From my life?
Savagely cut from me with the bluntest of knives.
The Faceless People watching by as my world burns to dust.
Broken heart, broken trust.
They came to watch the show,
Lining up to see me go –
No goodbyes,
Only quiet disdain
For the girl who went insane
From too much trauma and pain…
Their backs were the last thing these haunted eyes would see.
If I am dead, then why can’t I be free?
Free to journey through the stars;
Reunited with loved ones, wherever they are…
This isn’t where I’m meant to be –
Bound to a world where no-one sees me.
If this indeed is purgatory, then Lord let me rise
To the sky and be by their side.
If that’s a place I do not belong,
Then have mercy on me, cast me into Hell… let me drop,
And let this ‘life’ be over….. please make it stop.

 

 

 

Burdened.

BURDEN

*Strong suicide theme*

 

 

My head is packed full of noise at the moment and I can’t tell what’s what. I don’t know how I feel, what I think or what to do. I don’t even know how to begin unravelling the chaos inside. I feel like I need to write it out but I don’t know where to start. How on earth do I explain everything I’m experiencing? It’s not possible.

It’s been a tough week and nobody even knows about it. With World Suicide Prevention Week, it’s triggered a lot of memories and emotions surrounding the loss of my friend to suicide four months ago. Seeing all the posts / tweets about suicide has been upsetting. Oddly enough the thing that upset me the most was people saying ‘suicide isn’t selfish…. those who think it is are the selfish ones’. I thought, how lovely it must be to see things so simplistically. I have news for people – we’re ALL selfish. Every single one of us. If we’re not then we’re not living life correctly. We all think about things from our perspective. Have these people ever really considered what they’d be like if they lost someone to suicide? They have this view that you shouldn’t make someone’s suicide all about you. I’m sorry but it is about me. It’s about everyone her life touched. Yes she was in pain and couldn’t go on. It’s about her pain and her tragic end to her life. But the moment someone completes suicide it ceases to be about that person anymore and their pain….. it becomes a new wave of pain for everyone else. To say otherwise is to say we shouldn’t grieve the loss of them…. and to not grieve is to deny ever loving them.

Some people have the view that the grief and sadness someone feels at losing someone to suicide, cannot compare to the pain someone feels to want to end their life. I disagree. I don’t think those people can legitimately say that unless they have experienced both. I have experienced both. I am experiencing both right now. Very often those preaching about ‘not judging’ suicidal people and calling those bereaved by suicide ‘selfish’, are people who only have one side of the story… quite often their own experiences of suicidal feelings / attempts on their own lives. They tell others not to judge unless they have been there, whilst judging those who are grieving the loss of someone to suicide. They haven’t been there, they cannot understand how it feels.

I do not think my friend was genuinely and deliberately selfish. I know suicidal feelings like the back of my hand. I understand it. I know it’s part of a mental illness. A symptom that claims lives. It’s something that robs you of your ability to think and see clearly. It distorts reality and makes you feel and believe you are a burden, nobody cares and the world would be better without you. It is an illness. But it can still be seen as selfish. It doesn’t mean the person was selfish. They likely weren’t in their right mind. But it is perfectly normal and natural for loved ones to see it as selfish. I’ll tell you why, from my own feelings in regards to my friend:

  1. She didn’t give me the opportunity to help her. If I had known how she really felt, I would’ve done anything for her. But she denied me the chance to save her life. And I have to live with that forever.
  2. She didn’t give me a goodbye. She just went. I had no closure. I had to make that closure by going to her funeral to say my goodbye. But she didn’t respect me enough to say goodbye or that she was sorry for leaving me. She abandoned me.
  3. She knew how alone I was and what I’d been through. She left me with nobody and nothing, and I’ve now completely shut down and closed off from everyone.
  4. I was due to see her five weeks later – we were looking forward to a concert together and finally seeing each other again. She left me with nobody to go with initially… I had to go round begging people to go with me. I also had to attend the event whilst grieving… having gone to her funeral the week before. I never got to see her again. It felt like I was worthless…. she couldn’t hold on long enough to see me. It felt like a ‘rejection’ of me. It felt like she didn’t want to see me. Like she didn’t care about me.

These points would make some on Twitter bark at me that I’m being selfish, making it about me and not caring about her suffering. I would totally lose it at those people were they to do that. My point is that I am grieving. It’s perfectly acceptable for me to have these thoughts and feelings. They’re not often talked about as we have to appear a certain way, to avoid ‘stigma’. But those who have lost someone to suicide are faced with stigma too. They’re made to feel guilty for having the sorts of views I have just listed. They’re made to feel bad about their anger and for blaming the person. Ultimately I know her suicide was not about me in the slightest – it was about the torment in her own mind. I know that. But I haven’t reached that point in my grief yet – it’s only been four damn months! It’s a process. It takes time. Right now it feels like something done to me. I shouldn’t be shamed for feeling this way, especially by people who have no clue what it’s like to lose someone to suicide.

This last week has taught me I’m fighting the wrong battle. I no longer associate myself with the ‘mental health community’ and fighting stigma against mental illness no matter what. I will fight against it, but when it crosses over into stigma against others who are suffering (e.g. those grieving due to suicide), I will side with the bereaved. I know how suicidal thoughts feel. At this moment I want to end my life. I don’t want to exist anymore. I do not see me being here in a year. That’s why I’m reluctant to buy a ticket for myself to see my favourite band on my birthday next year… what’s the point? I won’t be here then. I know suicidal feelings too well. I know what hell I exist in right now. But what gives me the right to say that what I feel now is worse than what my family would feel if I took my own life? You cannot compare pain like that. That in itself is selfish… thinking your suffering is worse than someone else’s would be.

Suicide spreads. Those who lose someone to suicide are at risk of trying to take their own lives too. They can be left traumatised. They can develop a mental illness as a result, and end up down the same path. And having people say not to make someone’s suicide about you, is the worst thing you can do. It tells those people to shove it down, not talk about it and this will only compound their own struggles with mental illness. Suicide is a silent killer and many die as a result of not talking about how they truly feel…. so for mental health advocates to invalidate people’s feelings and grief and telling them to say nothing, and not be open about how they really feel, it’s damaging and they’re perpetuating the silence of suicide.

 

I have no support around me anymore. The safety net I once had has morphed into the noose around my neck. (1)

 

Those who talk about such things probably don’t know what grief feels like. How it tears your world apart and leaves a hole in your heart. That is just ‘normal’ grief. Grief from suicide is more complex and traumatic than any other loss. It’s a known fact. That’s not to diminish grief from other causes. All loss is traumatic and the worst pain you can imagine. But unless you’ve been affected by someone’s suicide, you have no idea how that feels.

Personally as well, if you haven’t lost someone to suicide then you don’t know what that’s like… to have to cope with that whilst having BPD, where your emotions are more intense. And throw into the mix already feeling suicidal yourself…. and having no friends left, so having to deal with it all on your own. Or rather not deal with it on your own.

How can I then be expected to not make her death about ME…? The point is whilst suicide is not intentionally selfish it does have consequences for other people. I remember someone even saying online before the funeral, if you’re coming then don’t make it all about you, and act like the ‘best friend’. I let that go, on accounts of them grieving. But I took that to heart. That really pierced down to the bone. That was another instance of ‘don’t make it about you’ – i.e. don’t be ‘selfish’. I had no intention of it. And it hurt that it could even be suggested that I would. It may not have been aimed at me, but as I was ‘uninvited’ it felt like it was a pointed comment. I felt they were trying to put me off going. Like I wasn’t welcome. I wasn’t ever going to act like the ‘best friend’ – I never was her best friend. She was the BEST friend I’ve ever had, in the sense that nobody could be better than she was. And I did know her since she was seventeen at least…. she was a huge part of my life, even if we only met up in person once. There’s a gaping hole in my life without her. Nobody has a right to deny that for me. It just felt as though I was being told I didn’t matter to her, so don’t pretend that I did. And when my whole issue in the past year had been that I felt I didn’t matter to anyone, and she was the only one who ever cared about me, that damn hurt. It was torture. I let it go, as I said, but months later it still stabs me in the heart when I think of it. I went to that funeral to show her family she was loved. To show support for them as I felt it’s what my friend would’ve wanted. She may never have expected for me to go to her funeral, but that’s what friends do. That’s how much she mattered to me. I wouldn’t have done that for just anyone. Our friendship mattered…. she wouldn’t want people to make me feel I was nothing to her. I know that. I went to a new place completely alone, for a couple of hours to say goodbye. I had to see her one more time. I never got to see her a month later as planned. She denied me the chance to see her and say goodbye. So I had to go. It was horrible to have to do. It still vividly haunts me today. But it was necessary. I didn’t make it about me. I popped in and ducked out just as swiftly. Yet I beat myself up for weeks afterwards, feeling guilty for intruding. She would hate that I felt that way. I’m not who people may have thought I was. I didn’t make it about me.

But now I’m left entirely alone to survive, I think I’m allowed to make this loss about me. It’s not just about me. But it has impacted on my life, and I shouldn’t be made to feel guilty for admitting that. I have nobody to talk to now. I’m invisible. She always made me feel visible. She’d always remind me what a good person I was. Now I can’t believe I am as I have nobody to help me believe that. There’s no permanence with what’s wrong with me. Sentiments only exist as long as they are said. She’ll never say those words again, and there’s nobody else to say them. So to me it doesn’t exist. I’m not a good person. I don’t know what I’m doing half the time. And I don’t matter to anyone now. And she’s not here to reassure me otherwise.

Her taking her own life has left me wanting to take my own. Feeling it is a certainty now. I see no way of recovering anymore. I’ve lost the two oldest friendships I’ve ever had, both of them early this year. There’s nothing left for me now. To start with I had people telling me what she would want for me… and that she wouldn’t want me to do that… but if she did it, then there’s no reason I shouldn’t. The only thing that stops me from doing it, is thinking how it would affect my family….. the belief that it IS selfish is the one thing that stops me from taking my own life. So I think it’s actually DANGEROUS for mental health advocates to send out a message that it’s somehow courageous and selfless to take your own life…. because you think you’re doing everyone a favour, not being a burden to them…. this is dangerous information to put out there. There needs to be balance.

 

The only thing that stops me from doing it, is thinking how it would affect my family….. the belief that it IS selfish is the one thing that stops me from taking my own life.

 

I think people who are suicidal need to be told they’re not bad people for feeling that way or for attempting to end their lives…. BUT they need to hear the reality. I understand it, I really do…. I feel like the biggest burden to everyone right now. It’s why I isolated myself last year and this year. So often I think about ending my life to unburden other people – but this is based on distorted thinking….

No matter how much of a burden you think you are with your illness, you are NOT a burden to your loved ones. They would rather you were here, asking for help, and being in their lives, than to never be able to see or talk to you again. The thing that burdens people the most is ending your life. That is the heaviest burden known to man. I have to carry that burden with me for the rest of my days, however many that may be. Her family have to carry that burden forever.

I am mentally ill. I feel suicidal. And I am carrying the weight of suicide by my one remaining friend. I don’t feel it can get worse than that. I have to live with that loss forever. This doesn’t encourage me to get better. It makes me want to die because the burden is too much to carry on my own, but that’s where I am in my life now because of her, and because of my best friend who turned her back on me a couple of months prior to my other friend dying. I have no reason to recover.

So suicide does impact on other people. And in that way it can be viewed as ‘selfish’. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with feeling that, if you are bereaved by suicide. I think people who have no clue of suicidal feelings, OR losing someone to suicide, and just sit on a train complaining about being late because of a ‘jumper’ – that’s wrong. Those people should be challenged. But when people are fighting stigma against the suicidal among us, they ought to remember that some of us are grieving and grief brings out all sorts of emotions, and beliefs. There may come a day when I defend my friend and say suicide is NOT selfish at all. I am not there yet, because it’s only been four months.

But right now it is unintentionally selfish. Some people take their own lives to unburden others. They think they’re helping other people by doing it. But a lot of the time people want to end their lives just to end their pain. Everything else goes out the window. That’s why people believe it is selfish, because they think we’re only thinking of ourselves and our pain, and not considering those we’d leave behind – and sometimes that’s probably true – we probably do forget about them and their potential pain. Or we think they’ll get over it. Or that they don’t care enough to grieve. And sometimes we do think of those we’d leave behind, but that thought isn’t enough to survive what we’re experiencing inside. So ultimately the thoughts of ‘self’ win.

It’s okay to be selfish. It’s okay to feel that suicide is selfish, but not think badly of the person themselves. I know that’s hard to comprehend. But you can think something is selfish yet is not a bad thing. Look, people think I’m selfish for my grieving process and for ‘making it about me’….. and I think those people who judge me for things like I’m writing here, they too are selfish. Because they’re thinking about themselves – their own opinions…. and they’re intolerant of a different view. They don’t stop to question the reason I might have this view… why I might be upset by people saying ‘suicide isn’t selfish’. It’s not a black and white case of me thinking that therefore I’m an ignorant, judgemental prick. But there are genuinely people who would read this post and think that about me. But the REASON I’m upset by that statement is because I have personally lost someone to suicide, therefore I know how it feels. I have conflicting views about suicide. It’s very confusing for me, and it’s a part of grief. So having people tell me it’s wrong to feel a certain way, is damaging in my journey to healing from loss. I’m not one of those ignorant people who don’t know what it feels like. I know perfectly well how it feels. Exactly four years to the day before my friend took her own life, I considered jumping off a bridge. It was the closest I had come to doing something like that.

So I know all about it. I’m also feeling the most hopeless and helpless I ever have. I’m strongly considering suicide myself. I haven’t quite reached that point where anyone needs to immediately worry. But I have an unhealthy obsession with not existing anymore. That’s why reading endless tweets about suicide was very triggering for me.

All these stories about ‘It really DOES get better… look at me now’…. they all felt empty. It may well get better for a lot of people, who have lives to return to…. but I feel like the exception. That’s what I felt when watching a programme about how to help people who are suicidal. I felt all those suggestions would work for someone else but not me. I felt people would care and be there to save other people, but not me. I felt like others can be saved, but I am the exception. I felt dead inside watching that programme. I feel it’s too late for me to be helped. No help can bring back what I’ve lost. I have no support around me anymore. The safety net I once had has morphed into the noose around my neck. The two friends I had left, who could have saved me from this pain and this certain fate, they abandoned me in one way or another. They are the reason I don’t want to exist anymore. I have nobody else to catch me. Everyone else willingly watched me drown or just didn’t even notice I was drowning. I didn’t exist to any of them. So I’ve cut everyone out now. I’m on my own.

I used to see my Godchildren as a part of my future…. it was the one thing I was certain of – that I’d always be in their lives and watch them grow. But when my best friend turned her back on me at my lowest point, she took them with her. So any hope for a future I had, it’s gone now. I’ve not seen them for over a year and half. The bond I had with my God-daughter is broken, along with my heart. I don’t think I’ll ever recover from the pain of that lost bond. My Godson has started school now apparently. My friend moved house apparently…. all of this happened without her telling me anything about it. She cut me out of her life well over a year ago. It was a long drawn-out abandonment and it destroyed me. I have no reason for living anymore. I have too many traumatic experiences from the last couple of years. I have nothing to aim for. And even if I could conjure up some new friends – it takes a long time to cultivate the sorts of friendships I’ve lost this year. And I never will be able to, because I will not trust anyone again, thanks to my former best friend. I will be expecting abandonment and rejection from everyone I meet now. If my best friend of over thirteen years can give up on me because of my mental illness, then nobody else will stick around. They’ll only tolerate me if I pretend to be okay. As long as I never show my reality people will humour me, at best. I used to hide my mental illness from everyone. After my breakdown at therapy two years ago, it let a lot out, and I could no longer hide how I felt. The more ill I got publicly, the less people wanted to do with me, including her. Once the mask of wellness slipped and she saw the true face of depression and BPD, she didn’t want to know me anymore. That’s how it feels. So my self-worth is non-existent now. I don’t believe anyone will ever truly like me. I know for a fact that no man will ever see me as attractive ever again. So I’ve accepted I’m going to die an old spinster…. assuming I survive that long, which I highly doubt right now.

I just feel too broken. Too traumatised. Too alone. I’m a lost cause. I’m feeling too hopeless, that I’m not even doing things I’m meant to be doing. I’ve not approached anyone for help yet… because I don’t believe I can be helped. This feels too big an obstacle for anyone to help me. I need grief counselling… but the problem is not just grief, it’s the mess that’s left behind – my mental illness, my grief, it’s all wrapped up together. Being abandoned by everyone… that affects my mental health and my grief…. my grief affects my mental health and vice versa, and then people abandon me because of it…..which makes me paranoid, which pushes people away…. makes me feel unsupported in my grief…. more mentally ill……. want to die….. see no future – seriously when I picture it, it’s black. There’s literally NOTHING in my future now. Because of abandonment. Because of grief and loss. Trauma and broken trust. Being made to feel worthless and not deserving of a goodbye or a conversation from my best friend. If she didn’t value me who the fuck is going to in this life? And if nobody values me and I’ll be made to feel this shit forever, then I don’t want to live a minute more. What have I done to deserve this?? I feel enraged about it. And then I beat myself up for it, thinking of course I deserved everything that’s happened. I’m an awful person. Another reason to die. But I can’t die, because it’s selfish and would hurt my family. My family are all I have to keep me alive. And even they don’t know how I feel at the moment. I can’t talk to them about any of it. This is how alone I am. This is the most I’ve talked about my feelings in a long time. And my mind’s telling me I shouldn’t have done it. I should keep it all in and let it build until I end my life.

 

I have no support around me anymore. The safety net I once had has morphed into the noose around my neck.

 

Mental health services have changed so much in the last ten years, since I did DBT. They won’t help me until I’ve been through ‘lesser services’. But they all are about ‘recovery’ – you have to want to get better and put the work in. The trouble is I’m beyond that now. They left me too long and too much has happened since. I don’t ‘want’ to get better….. because I cannot see that possibility anymore. It’s impossible to focus on ‘recovery’ when you cannot see the point in it. When you just can’t exist in this life anymore. When no matter what work you do on yourself, your circumstances will still be the same… you’ll still be utterly alone at the end of any work you do. You’ll still be grieving and have lost everything. You’ll still have wasted years of your life and be a failure. What is the point? And people won’t suddenly treat you better than they have. I’ve been trodden on too many times now, I feel it’s my lot in life. And I don’t want to participate in that anymore. I want it over with. I honestly feel even DBT won’t help me at this point. I have no clue what would – because my problem is not just my mental health or that I’m grieving… it’s the people I had around me…. you can’t force people to care about you. I have nobody to care about me anymore. You can’t replace that. And without that, I can’t recover. This world is what is killing me. It’s the reason I can’t live in it. The people. My irrelevance. And everything people have put me through in the last few years. You can’t erase that amount of emotional trauma. And I can’t live in this world with all of that inside me. So tell me…… who do I turn to, to help me with that?

Bereavement counselling won’t touch it. Mental health services will see my mental health as complicated by grief, therefore signpost me to bereavement counselling. There is nobody in this world who can help with the scale of this problem. And even if there was… I wouldn’t believe they can help me. I won’t believe that I can be saved. How do you help someone like that? How?? I’ll always believe people will give up on me, if I don’t seem to be ‘engaging’ with their attempts to get me to help myself. That’s what it’s all about – I have to help myself. That’s what services are like now…. they don’t help you. They help you to help yourself. So what would they do with me? Write me off as the lost cause I feel I am? Or would they overcompensate with nauseating positivity…. ? I’ve had that before. You just feel misunderstood and invalidated. Either way I end up feeling a failure and a burden… like I’m wasting their time. I’m not even in hell anymore. I’m below that. I can fully understand why my friend made the choice she did four months ago, if this is the sort of thing she felt.

I have nothing and nobody to lift me out of this. There is no joy in life. No hope. Nothing. I really want to fall asleep and not wake up. I can’t exist in my head anymore. I’ve had enough.

And that’s without the political situation unfolding in this country now too. I don’t exist to anyone in my life… I’m invisible…. and now Parliament want to treat me as though I’m invisible too…. just overturn my vote, deny me an election and rob me of the one achievement in recent times – winning that referendum. I won’t say much on politics now, but it just destroys me that MPs are treating me just the same as everyone else. Like I don’t matter. I actually tweeted to the Prime Minister the other day, admitting that Remainer MPs are making me even more suicidal than usual. I’m usually quite restrained on Twitter, but that’s going now. I’m beyond the end of my tether. And the political situation is worsening my mental health at a dangerous time…. they’ve created an environment too toxic for people like me to live in… another reason to opt out of life. I just feel the odds are stacked against me, to survive. And I’ve lost the will to care.

 

 

 

I’m Sorry.

*Strong suicide theme – don’t read if feeling unsafe yourself, please*

 

I keep hearing Liv say to keep writing, and that my blog was good for her as my friend, to help understand how I’m feeling. That I should use it however I want to… it’s my space etc. – but I’m seeing other bloggers and I’m thinking how positively they write. I feel ashamed of my blog. I feel it’s so negative. I wish so much I could be positive and helpful to others.

I’m just struggling so much with life myself. And the reality is I have absolutely nobody I can talk to about that. So I write on my blog. I know those in my life won’t read it. The only one who ever did was Liv. She said she always read my posts. I miss her so much right now. Again, I have nobody to talk to about that. My doctor is the only person I can be honest with about everything, and I can only see her once a month.

I just feel the walls closing in around me at the moment. Even having told the doctor things nobody else knows about how dark things are for me, they’ve only become much darker since my last appointment a week ago. I’m scared where this is going to end. I’ve never felt more alone or scared in my whole life. Everything is a complete mess. There is nothing good left in life. There is no ‘life’. It’s just pain and grief… so much loss…. and just pure despair.

The only people I want and need to talk to, are the same people who are either gone from this world or abandoned me for being ill. My heart is so broken by it all. I wish it would stop beating. The only people who even notice my existence are my closest family. To be born into a world where only they would notice me not being here, is to never have really existed. It’s such a waste. To have made no difference to anyone’s life…. not a positive one anyway. I hate myself so much. I hate other people. I hate everyone who just threw me away like I was nothing. How can I ever recover from what they all did to me?

When Liv took her life, it was too much to bear. I got in touch with my former best friend who abandoned me, as I just couldn’t take having lost them both. It made no difference. I even got told by her husband it doesn’t mean things going back to normal….. just like she had painfully said to me that nothing would ever be the same now. I don’t understand why not – all I did was be mentally unwell last year…. how does that warrant treating me differently from now on? It’s not my fault. Why am I being blamed and persecuted for being unwell?? It doesn’t matter how much pain I’m in, how ill I am or if I didn’t even exist anymore. She’s decided I’m the villain in all of this and I deserve to be punished by her withholding friendship from me. She’s killed me.

And Liv’s gone. Nothing can change that. Nothing can make that alright. I have to carry that with me forever. I feel angry, because things were hard enough for me without this. But then I’m also angry that even with this added to the mix, nobody cares, not even my former best friend. Nobody can see how close to the edge I am… it’s almost as if they don’t want to acknowledge that suicide can get passed down the chain. Even people without mental illness can feel suicidal after losing someone to it. I was suicidal before losing her. Enough things had broken me and made me want to give on living. But I’ve talked about my suicidal feelings too much and done nothing about it, so people don’t believe me anymore. That’s why I’m not talking to people anymore. What’s the point? Nobody takes me seriously anymore. Nobody understands or cares. I know the occasional person on my blog might, and I’m so grateful to those people for noticing me. But I need people in my life to see me and save me. I’ve given up on it though. They’d have to read my blog to hear anything more from me. Any they don’t care enough to do that. And if they did then they don’t care enough to reach out to me and ask if I’m okay. If my former friend didn’t want me to end my life then she should’ve thought about that before abandoning me at a time like this.

I feel so alone. So lost. So entirely destroyed. I can’t be fixed anymore. I mean it. Nothing can make this okay ever again. I feel sick all the time, and numb from the pain. Not numb enough. Things were extremely dark before Liv died but I could still imagine light at the end of the tunnel one day…. the tiniest bit of light. Even if I couldn’t see how to reach it.  But now…… I’m sealed in a dark tomb. I can’t get out. I see nothing. I’m struggling to breathe under the weight of darkness and nothingness and utter pain, and nobody will reach out a hand and help me out. Nobody will show me the way towards the light again. I wouldn’t believe it existed or that I could ever find it again, even if they did, but nobody’s even tried. They’re all just leaving me to rot in that tomb, all alone. I just want the darkness to kill me now. I’m as good as dead and buried already and everyone treats me as though I’m a ghost. So why can’t it all just end? I’ve had enough.

 

And that’s what I mean about feeling ashamed of this blog. Because instead of breaking stigma, helping others and showing my journey to recovery, I’m basically documenting my downfall into nothingness. I’m laying bare my breakdown. And what’s killing me right now is that Liv isn’t here to guide me. I just need her so much right now, and she’s not here and never will be again. And I don’t even have anyone else to fill that void. I have nothing and nobody. It hurts too much. She’s the only person I need to talk to right now. I don’t know what to do.

I’m sorry. I’ll stop writing here. I can’t see anymore, having cried writing the whole damn thing. I don’t know the purpose of this. I just had to let a little of my pain out somehow. And no, I don’t feel better for it. But I’ll do what I can to solve that for tonight. Don’t want anyone to worry about me imminently… not that I believe they would. I’m sorry, I hope I haven’t triggered anyone. I was going to switch to a new blog – a positive one.  A fresh start. But I can’t be positive at the moment. Maybe I should truly suffer in silence… total silence… I don’t want to upset others with my feelings.

Hope everyone’s okay. Keep safe. I’ll try my best to as well. It’s just becoming harder every day to do, especially feeling so alone.

xxxx

 

 

 

Ripped Away.

*Suicide trigger*

 

 

 

This is one of the lowest points of my life. There have been many ups and downs, which so far I’ve managed to negotiate and struggle through. It’s different this time.

 

I’ve pulled myself out of dark places in the past… but I always had a reason to. I always had someone to help me… I’m talking about people outside of the family. When people hurt me or ditched me in the past, I always had someone who really seemed to have my back.  But now I don’t. I’ve had two major losses this year. Losing my best friend for God knows what reason – as far as I can tell, it’s because of my mental illness. And the other rock of mine, taking her life. I knew them both a couple of years off half my life. Now there’s nothing. I’m invisible. I don’t exist. I’ve lost those who I thought cared about me. I’ve lost my Godchildren. I’ve lost who I was.

 

I have no purpose. I have no reason to live. I have nothing to pull me through. When I lost my group of ‘friends’ in 2012, I still had my best friend. Now I’ve lost her, and I don’t understand why…. and I have nobody to help me with that. Liv’s gone.

 

I’m finding that hard to deal with today. The reality that she’s gone. And I should’ve done something to help her. I didn’t know things were that bad. I didn’t see her calling out for help. I was too wrapped up in my own hell. I should’ve been there for her. I let her down. Now I’ll never get the chance to make up for that. Because she’s not coming back. I have to live with the guilt of this forever. I have to live with the fact that I never got to see her again.

 

I’ve come out of darker times, to slightly less dark times before – I’m not sure I’ve ever fully seen the light again. But I’ve made progress. But this time I have to face it alone. And I’m having to pull myself out of places so dark I can’t even describe them. There are no words anymore. Nothing does the pain justice. Even the word ‘pain’ is inadequate. ‘Broken’ is inadequate. Any word to describe my emotions right now can’t come close to the level of what I feel. I feel, yet I don’t feel at the same time. I don’t feel real.

 

I’m praying for my heart to actually stop beating. To fully break and never work again. I want to wake up from this nightmare. The reason I can’t recover from this now is because I’ve seen too much of hell in the last two or three years…. I can’t un-see that. I live in a different world now. I don’t know anything anymore. And I have no anchor. I have no friends. I don’t have my rocks anymore. I am beyond lost. I am floating, and feel sick from the motion. I want my mind to break. I need to hit rock bottom now. I need to stop functioning. I need to stop thinking and feeling and hurting. I need it all to stop.

 

This can’t be my life. It isn’t fair.  I was someone who only wanted someone to love and to love me in return…. I got played, to the point I don’t believe in love anymore. I wanted friends, having grown up without any. They all destroyed me. I just wanted to not lose my best friend… I thought she deserved better than me, and was happier without me… I thought I was being replaced…. I didn’t want to burden her with my illness…..  I lost her…. she obviously agreed….. she is happier without me…. I was replaced…. and I clearly did burden her. I just wanted the love and support of my friends to help me through my grief and breakdown…. I got neglected and abandoned instead. The one person keeping me alive after all of that, ended her own life…. when I was feeling suicidal myself. And nobody is there for me through it. I’m constantly crying out for help. I don’t exist to anyone. I’m dead. And I’m just a burden to others.

 

All I’ve ever wanted was people to care and to love me… and to let me care about and love them. I’ve wanted people to not give up on me and leave me. And that’s all they’ve done. I wanted to matter, and I don’t. I wanted to be a priority for once. I never will be.

 

All I know is pain. Sadness. Loneliness. Abandonment. Betrayal. There is no happiness. No peace. No hope. I have nothing now. The world is so quiet, yet it goes on around me as though I’m not here.  But I feel distant. I feel dazed and in my own world, where all that exist are my thoughts and the hollowness in my chest, and the sick feeling in my stomach, and the tightening of my throat, and the tears in my eyes. And I sit here and pray for life to stop. Why can’t I just ‘give up’ on living and my heart just stops by me just willing it to? That’s what I want. I have no fight left in me.

 

I can see no recovery, because everything I thought was going to be in my future, has been ripped away from me this year. In the past I’ve at least been left with something… but I really have nothing.

 

There is nothing good about my life. I’ve achieved the grand total of nothing. I have no legacy to leave behind…. not like Liv. She did so much good, and she was so loved. I’m nothing and nobody.

 

I’ve started rationalising doing what Liv did. I’ve started telling myself I know it would hurt my family…. but a part of that would be for the future that is lost with me….. for all I could’ve been and done and had…. but that’s never going to happen anyway. I’m never going to have the life I wanted. I’m never going to find someone to love me, and have children with. I’m never going to be successful and make anyone proud. There’s no big loss…… in fact it would just ease the burden on everyone, to not have to worry about and care for me.

 

I’ve really never felt this low, and I’m completely isolated through it. I’ve been left in the dark. And that’s all there is. And all there ever will be now. ‘Who cares if one more light goes out?’ … this one wouldn’t be missed.

 

My mind has given up. My body is giving up. I feel paralysed, like I’m sprawled out on the floor, shattered, and can’t move, with the weight of everything bearing down on me. But time keeps ticking and my damn heart keeps beating. I can and often do stop the clock from ticking by taking the batteries out…. if only I could do the same with my heart. Either way, life goes on. And that’s the cruellest thing about life, for the grieving and the mentally ill…. life goes on, around us…. we’re left alone, living in pain for a lifetime, because nobody is really with us through everything. Nobody can understand how we feel.

 

The only thing that could’ve helped me was to have people step up and throw everything into helping me … caring…. worrying…. helping me see a glimmer of light again…. but there’s nobody to do that now. It’s silence. It’s black. It’s dead. I’m floating in the vacuum of space. And nobody can hear my screams.