Note: This is something I wrote over a period of time when I was suicidal. I have left it punctuated as it originally was.

Written Christmas 2017 and added to up to April 2018

Somewhere along the line you’ve gotten tired.  Ramming pieces into a jigsaw on Xmas day with tears pouring down your cheeks.  Knowing there can be no good outcome because no matter which happy future box you try to cram into you never quite fit the space.  It’s not that you don’t care – its that you are already detaching from the world.  You look at it, knowing that soon you will be somewhere else.  Everything looks faded, further and further away.  Things cease to matter.  The pain is intolerable – you know that its selfish but anything to end that pain.  Something you will never be able to explain to others.  You are floating away – no anchor.  These feelings from childhood so strong the only way to end it, keep everyone safe, is to die.  You have never managed to achieve anything in life anyway.  What else can I do with such indescribable pain.  I can never escape childhood no matter what I do.  I am scared of the depth of anger, of sadness, of despair.  Every dream smashed.  im furious inside me and I am scared of it.  shame and fear of finding myself in that terrible place again.  Knowing it can only end now with death.

I am detaching from the world, like I am slowly lifting off the ground.  And all those little things no longer matter.  I cant believe I ever cared about them.  I am leaving.  I am going soon and all these things disappear because I will disappear.  I am so relieved.  Not quite excited but I feel less heavy knowing that soon this will all be over.  I don’t agree that it is selfish.  No one understands the pain, the fear of being harmed again

The knowledge that I am totally alone.  I feel no anxiety, only urgency.  I want to leave everything neat.  Because someone will have to pack up the remains of my life.  It will be sold, your will states this but you no longer care about these things which have been so precious to you.  they will be someone else’s soon.  I hope that they are looked after.  I cannot take even one more abusive touch.  I am tired from the jumping, always looking around.  I cannot connect to people.  I am alone but even this does not matter now.  Soon there will be no pain, physical or mental.  Maybe God will reject me but hell seems a better risk than living in this hell on earth.  Perhaps God will forgive me escaping this pain.  Will I come back in another life?  And have to do this all again to learn life lessons?  I am so tired that I am willing to take the chance – perhaps I will have more energy in that other life and be able to triumph.  People will be sad and mad and I am sorry for that.  I know that they will be ok – I am just a fragment of their lives.  I know that because worst thing is attending a funeral – you see people move on.  Life will go on without you and everyone will be okay.  You will barely be a breeze of memory.  They will move on.  I will not write a note because what would I say?

Some of this I brought on myself – I have tried to do too much without support and have ground myself into the ground.  And now cannot pick myself up

I feel unwell.  My pain is also physical and untreatable.  This is the rest of my life and that could be decades.  I cannot hold down a job, have no plan for my life.  I have not achieved my dreams – struggled too much.  I cannot do day to day tasks – I’m thrown by every little thing.  I have to look like I am coping, successful.  I cannot let anyone see that I am not.  I cannot cope with more rejection, more nagging to do better, to get more therapy, to do everything I struggle to do.  What I am expected to do.

There is too much trauma.  there is no part of my life free from the memories. And even now no safe place.

I want to tell my story but I am too tired.  I want one last hug but there is no one I can ask.

I do not want to have more therapy – having to start over with another new person.  The process of finding a person.  Having the stress of getting to the appointment.  The expense.  Finding the words to force myself to speak to a stranger, jump to their tune.  I have failed therapy and I do not want to start again with a stranger. 

There is one person I want to talk to.  Just her. I don’t want more rejection though.i want to talk to her 

I don’t know how to start  so I wont be able to

Maybe next time I see her but I say that every time. im too gutless

It is harder and harder to breathe.  I feel too tired to move.  Just need to finish everything – do every commitment, finish every task.  I know about suicide.  I know how to hide that I am going to do it.

29 May 2018 (after J died)

J got there first.  I had it planned.  Was days away.  But he got in first.  And it paralysed me.  He made me more tired.  He did it in a way I did not think of.  Now I think perhaps it is a better plan, but now I have to change my own plans.  It makes me tired

I just want one hug.  Or a hand to hold.  No one will ever do it so I hold my own hand and cry.  I do not want the rejection of someone else.

I cannot tell anyone how I feel because I do not want to be locked up in hospital – the worst thing for my PTSD.  I do not want the hell of physch drugs.  I do not want to be referred on, or have people walk away because I do not like their suggestions. 

My thinking was once blurry but more and more it is razor sharp in it’s fog.  I can work out my plan.  I can get this together slowly.  A checklist of things I want to finish.  So no one is left with the task I promised them incomplete.  A plan for how to do it.  how to do it alone so that no one is impacted by seeing.  And I do not want anyone hurt.  Even though no one will care. Just glad that im gone. I was going to write a list of who gets what but I haven’t the energy.  Perhaps I should just write a note saying that everyone can have what they want

My thinking goes in a big circle, getting tighter and tighter and soon it will be just that one thought:  I am going to die today and I feel relieved.  My pain is going to end today.

June, 2018

I needed someone to care that I hurt.  And sit with me.  Not send me away.  Not tell me that it will be ok.  Not tell me not to kill myself.  Someone who sees worth in me and wants me to live, not die.  A subtle difference between saying – don’t die, AND please stay - I want you to live because you are worth something and wanted and needed in this world.  And the please is important – please says that I cannot stop you and I am very sad and I am asking not telling or ordering.  Please gives autonomy and freedom.  It doesn’t trap.  Stay says live rather than don’t die.  Stay implies support rather than loneliness.  It says we are in it together.  You are not alone.  It says I want to connect.  It is personal, not general.  It does not sound like it comes from a training package.  These are life saving words.  The other words would have been worthless.

 A few weeks later

I want to say something about the significance of these words.  Please stay.  They are short and say it all – but in a personal way.  The person who says them actually personally wants me to stay.  There is one person on earth who wants me despite how dirty I am.  It is not a general the world wants you – too big, too impersonal.  It is relationship and connection which saves.  Not the vague you have reasons to live.  Reasons to live is too flimsy, too complicated in a brain which needs one simple thought.  And security is the other thing – the security of a relationship which isn’t just going to easily end.  An achor.  Someone who isn’t going to rush you through to meet goals which are too great, that become insummountable burdens.  The world is too hard – that is why I wanted to leave it.  placing weight on me or making me feel guilty is just going to send me back there.  One simple thought – to reach into the eye of that stormy, foggy circle.  And a request.  Not an order.  Knowledge that this person has given time she didn’t have and was willing to hold a hand of a person not worth it.  who hadn’t been touched in so long but longed for it – the feel of gentle skin.  And she didn’t send me away. she listens. I should have told her long before.  I wish id had the guts. She didn’t throw me away  she likes me.  She wants me around.  She will walk with me.  I am not alone now.  I hurt but shes here im here we stay.  WE.

Originally written 2017-2018