I’m going to say that this post may trigger some folks and I apologize. This post is to get my feelings and thoughts out because I don’t feel comfortable with really communicating about it. I’m feeling okay and I’m feeling overwhelmed at this moment.
Yesterday started off different than my usual days because I woke up at someone else’s apartment. I booked a pet sitting with a client from Wag! I didn’t eat and I didn’t take my anti-anxiety medication because I need to take it with food. When I left, I met up with my daughter at her grandparents’ house. My boyfriend came to pick us up and bring us home. In the midst of getting to their house and us getting to our home, my emotions and my mood were drastically different. I couldn’t pin point it then and I still can’t now.
When we got into our apartment, my boyfriend and I had a big fight. It was bad. I really don’t want to provide details but that was the icing on the cake for me. I had been feeling miserable for the last couple of weeks. I’ve been feeling emotional, lost, and alone. I’ve had no drive for anything. Sex, fun, and anything else you could think of. Why am I still living? What is my purpose in life?
I can’t do anything like leave the house or go to an appointment without feeling like something is going to happen to me. I can’t go to sleep without having nightmares. I can’t do anything without some type of consequence occurring with it. What if I die? How beneficial will that be to me? I wouldn’t suffer anymore. I don’t have to think these wild thoughts, have these horrible dreams, and I don’t have to disappoint anyone again. I don’t have to feel ever again.
I grabbed my two pill bottles. I took 3 of one and 6 of another. I started to feel tired and the pain felt like it was going away. I wanted to talk to my cousin, I wanted to talk to my friend. I wanted to say good bye because they never talk to me. I never have anyone on my side or someone who understands me or makes me feel like they love me. I posted what I did in a PTSD support group that I’m in on Facebook. I didn’t feel valued. I felt so sleepy. I felt ready for death. I wasn’t scared any more, I was ready.
My boyfriend comes home from work. He knows what I did. His mom comes in afterward. I felt ashamed. I didn’t want her to see me like this. To see me die. I didn’t want him to be there, I didn’t want him to make this hard on me. My mom comes over minutes later. She holds me and I felt better. But was she going to see me die? I didn’t want that. His mom reminded me about my daughter. She reminded me that I can get through this. They were all there.
I had people in my corner, I didn’t think or realize it. My mind told me I was alone, worthless, and better off dead. My boyfriend’s mom calls 9-1-1. I go to the hospital with a crisis center there. I sat there with my mom for hours. I was checked to see if I was physically okay and then I was sent to crisis for my mental health. I felt like a failure there. I felt like a damn loser. I felt like, “What the hell did I do to myself?” I just wanted to go home and I wanted to sleep. I wanted to forget what I did and who were suffering on account of me.
After everything was done, the hospital determined it was alright for me to go home. My mom and I took an Uber to get home. I couldn’t look or talk to my boyfriend. I felt ashamed and weak. I went to my downstairs neighbor to chat with her. I need that time to just talk with girls and be goofy. She told me that the cops showed up to my home after I got to the hospital, because someone in the PTSD group on Facebook reached out to my friend to check on my well-being. It made me think that there is more people, resources for help out there when I need it.
I want to thank everyone who reached out to get me help and who showed concern. I always feel that I’m basically a useless piece of shit. I’m hoping the psychiatrist I am seeing tomorrow will help me with my issues even more. Again, I am still feeling overwhelmed and very, very sensitive. I am happy to be alive and here today. I am feeling disappointed in myself that I tried to commit suicide. I would have never thought that I’d be here to say that I tried it and I needed to be hospitalized.
I just don’t feel like a good person. I don’t feel like my existence here is beneficial to anyone. I know that I am a mother. But I have so much hate toward myself, I just don’t want to feel it anymore. I wish I loved myself. I wish I could go out and not feel like I am going to die. I wish I could make friends and not feel like I need to isolate myself. I wish I could work without feeling like the pressure of the workplace and being around everyone. I just want to be able to think normally and feel like a regular person.