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April 2004

Please, will somebody tell me who the girl behind the smile is? Who the girl reflected in the mirror is? I just need to find myself in my eyes. I need to know who I am. I had it, I had it for a while...but again it has disappeared...I just couldn't hold on. Why couldn't I hold on? It keeps coming back and bringing my life to a screeching halt. I can't take this anymore. It's ruining the times that are supposed to be good. I just want to be happy...for the first time in my life I want to be the one to be happy. I can't take this Depression anymore. I thought I was strong, but I'm not. If I can make it through this bout...I don't think I can make it through another. It has to stop now, one way or another. That much I'm sure of.

So far I have a little fight left in me...for the first time in my life death has become real to me. I'm not sure how or why. I mean before I've had it planned out (my death) I've hit a vein cutting etc. But this time, its real, very real to me. And that is dangerous to me b/c if I know death, if I really understand it and I arrive at the decision to take my life anyway...I won't be coming back. To quote Girl Interrupted, "I was trying to make the shit stop." I just want to make the shit stop. There is no reason for me to be feeling this depressed, there is no reason as to why I want to end my life so badly. At least no reason good enough. And the constant torment my brain puts me under...I just can't take it anymore. The being here, but not really being here. I mean I can't even stand to look in a mirror, I avoid it at all costs...and when I do, I stare for a moment and just have absolutely no idea who is staring back at me. And then some days I just want to slam the mirror with all my might...or punch a wall or a window. I'm just so tired, empty, alone, anger, sad, hurt. I'm everything rolled into one and I don't know where one ends and the other begins. I don't know what comes from where or how that all fits into my life. I just know I hate it, I want it to end.

Desperate Times

I’m all I dislike

I’m all there is in the world to hate

I’m a leftover and a left-out

So what a cruel irony it takes

To try to comfort me in my everyday grief,

To sooth me, to make peace with me

And then, as a rule, to leave me

--Unknown

”We try a new drug, a new combination
of drugs, and suddenly
I fall into my life again
like a vole picked up by a storm
then dropped three valleys
and two mountains away from home.

I can find my way back. –Jane Kenyon

Sometimes I am just so freakin tired of all this. I wonder what could have possibly been so bad as to warrant me in therapy and psych wards. Why aren’t I strong enough to just face up to everything and move on with my life. Why can’t I forgive and forget and be on my merry way. I wonder why I’m such a dumb ass time and again…it should be so easy right? But I make it so much more difficult.

I just can’t stand this pain. It’s becoming so intolerable. I have…I have so much pain in me. Most of the time I suppress it, make it go away, but every once in a while it rears its ugly head. And down I go. I have spent all my life fighting myself and my feelings. When I was young, I had to stand guard and always think ahead. I had to be good…always. But nothing I ever did seemed good enough. There was always something I could do better. Be a better student, a better athlete, a better daughter…the list goes on. If I make one slip, then Hell ensues. I don’t get a break, I’m not allowed to slip. And Heaven forbid I speak of my actual feelings. If I did that, I could be made fun of, scolded, brushed aside, ignored. But, be happy, be good and smile and it’s all good.

I’m just very tired of fighting. Everyday I get up, I have to fight. And I’m pissed at that. I think that is what I had trouble with this time. I was just tired of fighting. There is only so much fight in me. I just want to know when the fight will end. When will I find peace? And that is why I chose suicide, to find peace.

Life has not given me many breaks…and I’m not saying that in self pity, just a statement. I’m just sick of this world. I don’t want to be in it. Yeah, it’s a selfish way to think, but for once I want to be selfish. I am tired of living for everyone else, I can’t live that way- it’s not enough. The only way I will live is if I give a damn about myself. I haven’t found that yet.

I know and understand that people see the good in me and that I have a lot of things going for me. I understand that. But you see, it’s not enough if I don’t care for myself. That is what is at the heart of this. I do not care for myself. And I’m tired. So very tired.

Though, there must be some shred of caring- I did make it to the E.R., but honestly I think that was for my counselor and my professor who I did promise I wasn’t going to kill myself that night.

But still I need to find this missing peace in my life. There is a missing component, something I’m not getting. So what is it? And what can I do to find it?

I know my family is part of the piece. I was abandoned. And it is very, very painful. Honestly (and it’s hard being this honest), I think a part of me wishes my family did love me. That they were parents to me. That I did have their approval. But I don’t. And I do accept that fact, but I think I’m still grieving this. I know I need to let go somehow. Part of me thinks that won’t happen until I have complete and utter control over my financial matters. I am looking into a loan for next year- I don’t want them paying anymore…they hold it over my head too much.

I need to let go of shame. Shame seems to rule my life. Shame for the sexual abuse, physical, and emotion abuse. I feel so shameful of all of it. Some part of me always wonders, “why didn’t I stop it?” I grapple with that on a daily basis. But I know I was just a child and didn’t know any better. But still. It stays with me.

I just…I just need to find something inside of myself that will help me live. I can’t look outside myself. It needs to come from the inside. And in all honesty that part is not coming to me.

I look back over the past couple years in my journal…there is so much pain. Pain that is still with me.

”When you spend your life hating who you are, what kind of life is that? I mean really…I spend it going from one crisis to the next. I up or I’m down. I’m fighting with someone always…tiptoeing my way around my parents trying not to cause waves, but I always do. I feel worthless and useless. And most of all I don’t feel like I belong. Everyone has their own life and I just feel like there’s Erin, sitting there all alone. A few ties here and there but for the most part not. If I were to just disappear there would not be too much uproar.

Who wants to live a life full of hating themselves? Full of trying to not go over the edge…watching what I do constantly. Or seeing something sharp and remember when. Or seeing the bottle of pills and knowing what I’ve done or want to do. Or laying awake at night, remembering those ugly nights. Full of trying to please everyone and getting fucked in the end no matter what I do. Full of never getting a break…not even once. Or wait, maybe my break came when I wanted to kill myself and didn’t. Oh that is some break let me tell you. If I had just done it two years ago, I wouldn’t be in this position. I’d be dead and gone and everyone would be happier as a result. No Erin, oh well, life goes on. It’s not like I made much difference anyway. So I sit here wondering…just what in the hell am I waiting for?”

Those two quotes come from a bad time in my life a year or so ago…maybe two. It’s amazing that things I wrote back then can apply to the here and now. I see now what is at the core of these depressions. It’s hating myself. Not being able to live for myself. Because when my world begins to fall apart, then there is nothing because I don’t have my world anymore and I’m left with me. And then I decide I don’t want me and go on to suicide.

I need to figure out how to do things for myself. That…is so very hard to do. Since guilt trips have been laid on me for years and years and years…it’s hard to ignore them. With my job…I would do anything, which I know is not good. And it’s all for the good of the children, but at the same time…at times I suffer. But I love these kids more than anything and THEY are suffering too…and I help ease the stress in their life- I should not take into account how I feel then, I am there for them and only them and their well being.

So yeah- that I have trouble saying “no” to, when people are calling me a gift from heaven. How do you refuse helping them.

School…is very difficult for me. I am a good student- in subjects I’m interested in. I have a lot of trouble keeping my focus in classes that do not interest me, just can’t. So my grades suck. I messed up some other grades because no one recognized ADD in me until I got the Bipolar diagnosis as well. So I screwed up my first two years because I couldn’t concentrate and tests freaked me out. And now I’m taking stupid classes and often I make bad choices about those classes.

And then family- I have been able to say no to them…all too often nowadays. But they still find ways to get at me. If I block them at one turn, they go to the next. And now…now they are pretty much gone. And I have to figure out how to still have a relationship with my little brothers despite this. And I have to confront my mom and let her know how much I hurt. How am I going to do that?

And finally- I need to address myself. I need to find the will to live, to care again. I really and honestly do not have that right now. I’ve done all the stupid list stuff- control/not control; like/dislike etc.- This is my sixth hospital visit and I am a psych student.

And that is what is so hard- I KNOW all this stuff, I KNOW how it’s supposed to be, I KNOW a lot of the advice given to me. The problem is in the doing. And I was doing very well with that for a while…and then I woke up one day and realized I didn’t have the energy to do it anymore. I just couldn’t go any further. The only strength I had was to call my counselor and tell her what I was planning.

So here I am. Without strength, without a will, but trying to figure out how to live. I need self love, not self hate. I need to be able to do things for myself and NOT feel guilty or think about what they think. I cannot control their thoughts- they will be what they will be. And that is very hard for me to grapple with.

And back to being tired and exhausted. I am tired and exhausted- from this illness, from the meds, from the pain- everything. At one point in this illness you just get tired of fighting. Like now. Just tired…so I’m not sure how to gain strength again…when I’m just so fucking tired.
 

I think today is a little better than previous days. From Thursday to Sunday…I was just so fucking tired…wanted to die so badly. And thus, I didn’t see the point of anything, didn’t see the point in talking, didn’t see the point in doing anything, since I wanted to die.

What is the difference today? I’m not sure. I know somewhere in me I just feel more alive. I am awakening from a fog and seeing the damage.  Do I want to live yet? Probably not. Just not there yet. I tried not to care. I tried not to care about my kids, my brothers, my professor, and my counselor. I just didn’t want to care. I’m sick of this depression and all of the other ones. Just sick of it. Yeah, I come out of every depression with something new. And everyone keeps telling me how much better I am than before. Like before I was still in denial, weird cognitive distortions, a distorted sense of reality and repressed so much. And now, I do see a reality, do have some rationality, not repressed or in denial and I have real problems, based more in reality.

I guess a part of me is so tired of fighting. I’m exhausted. And I know what everyone says- take some me time. But it’s so fucking hard to do that. It’s hard to do that with the job that I have and schooling etc. I’m so many things to so many people. I just want to be me. And I think of myself as having two selves. And I need to merge the two…but it’s so hard.

What is it inside of me that I need to find? There is a missing piece and I just need to find it. And there are the real problems on the outside world that I need to deal with. I’m going to have to deal with my family…though I’m scared as shit and I know it’s going to be really painful. Really painful.

I have a lot of financial stuff that I am going to have to deal with. That is hard as well. And I have a lot of work to catch up on- both school and with the kids. And I have to fight my illness.

And it’s just so hard waking up everyday and facing all of this. I know it feels like I’m a coward or something. But I have been strong so much, for so long- I’m human…I’m bound to get tired, fatigued and exhausted. And I’m at that point. I really thought this time around…it would be different- I thought I was done crashing. And then…here I am.

Broken, exhausted, hurt, wounded.

So where do I go from here? I need to find a way to live, without guilt, without shame and with a sense of balance with school, work, friends, my illness and family. Don’t know if I can ever get that balance!

I guess above all I need to find that missing piece I keep talking about. I think I had it once, but have lost it now. I need to want to live again, need to want to care. I need my strength back, my courage back. Perhaps that is what I’m looking for here. I’m recharging my batteries. I came here first because I don’t break promises and I promised my prof I would not die that night. But was planning on it regardless, but a call from my counselor jolted me. And I realized I need to fulfill that promise.

So to the E.R. I went. And from Thursday to Sunday- I was dead. Something had died inside of me. And so I just didn’t talk, kept to myself and just told them I was going to die so nothing mattered. But slowly, yesterday at nightfall, I began to feel again. I actually got angry. Then today, I just woke up. And felt more alive than I had been feeling previously. And every time they asked if I still wanted to commit suicide, I said yes, but with much hesitation. I meant it as I still didn’t trust myself and I don’t. At least not yet.

But just the fact that there is doubt in my mind, means that there must be some sort of hope that lies within me. And with that hope, I need to find myself. Dar Williams was right when she sang,
“And when I chose to live
There was no joy - it's just a line I crossed
It wasn't worth the pain my death would cost
So I was not lost or found”

I am most definitely not found…but I’m not sure if I am completely lost. I do have several guides- my counselor and my professor are both big ones. I, myself need to become a guide as well.

There is that line that I need to decide what to do with again. I’ve so far stayed on deaths side and said the hell with life’s side. But now I’m straddling that line. So I suppose that is progress.

I guess I need a few more days to recharge my batteries, then it’s time to step a bit into the world again, but not too much- I’ll be in partial so I still have a sturdy support as I get my affairs in order. Perhaps that is the way to go. The questions are: Can I do it? Do I have the strength to do it? Do I want to do it?

And I guess I have had the strength to survive thus far…and now I need the courage to actually live. That is a big difference.

Everyone is telling me how great I am, how much they enjoy my company, and what a difference I make in the world. I hear all this and I do smile…but I don’t…something inside prevents me from feeling that for myself. I know I have negative thoughts and all of that. And I do have some things in reality that need dealing with that I can’t deal with. All of that put together and I just shut down.

That is what I did this time around. The recent crisis was out of my realm of coping so I shut down completely. Instead of two steps forward/ one step back- I did two steps forward and two steps back.

I tried and did really well this time around- I used many coping mechanisms that I had never used before. When things were too much, I called my counselor. I emailed my professor…I talked to two friends. And I started to figure stuff out- called my father, called my family- and started to do what needed to be done.

But I stuffed my pain through all of that.

And when I woke up the next day…I felt the pain. And that pain was too hard to deal with and overrode everything. That kind of pain, that knife through the heart… it brought so much up. All the pain from the abuse, all of the pain from never standing up to them, all the pain from having to live life without parents really, all the pain from never being good enough, all the pain from internalizing everything and all the pain from realizing the lengths my family would go to hurt me.

And also, I’m still dealing with the damage done from depressions and mania. I’m still low on money from that week I flew too high. And this depression- really messed with schooling and I don’t know what I will do. And that is hard. But at the same time, I’ve realized what needs to come first. My schooling does not matter if I am dead. So I had to brush that aside-same with everything else (work)- would not matter if I was dead.

And thus, I know I have a little hope left in me. I am worried about school and work…so a part of me must have hope. I am semi-conscious of the effects of this hospitalization…there are several.

But I will deal with them.

4-1-04
So, for the first time in my life- I have no idea what is going to happen and where my future is going. I’m out of Inpatient now…left this evening. It’s weird being back out. Things are changing. I’m changing. It’s funny to think one week ago I was fully prepared to commit suicide. I had the pills, the letters, and the mindset. But lucky for me- I have a kickass counselor, who picked the perfect time to call me and then to convince me, in my unsafe, not exactly sane state, to get to the E.R.

But my irrationality did not end there. I spent the next three days fighting against the decision that I made to live. I was fighting hard. Wasn’t until a couple things fell into place that I became alive again. First, another patient looked at me at one point and said, “I think you’re full of shit.” I said, “go to hell, you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” And thus, the beginnings of a great friendship. But seriously- that comment hit home. I also had an awesome conversation with a prof of mine who I’m close to. She really drove home that I had worth, that she really truly and deeply cared for me. That started to wake me up. And finally, I got the use of my laptop! So I could write…the writing helped. And finally by the next day- I woke up with hope. True hope.

 

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