I logged in to my work computer to let The Man know that I was phoneless today... again. I logged in to Facebook and had a message from a friend saying, "This made me think of you. Not sure if you think about it as often like I do but this helps...
http://www.renataleuffen.com/articles/what-do-when-you-think-about-suicide-and-dont-want-live-anymore" (This is an EXCELLENT, though lengthy, article about suicidal thoughts).
I don't know how I really feel about being remembered for the girl who struggles with depression and suicidal thoughts, but that is not the point today. The point is I do struggle. Daily. Hourly. Sometimes even by the minute. Just because I haven't written about it or really shared my dark thoughts on social media doesn't mean that they don't exist. (Whaaaaaa???? If it's not on Facebook, it doesn't exist.)
This past month has been full of incredible highs and incomprehensible lows. I turned 40. I'm okay with that... it's just a number right? But then I look at my life; where I thought I'd be, where I wanted to be, and where I'm at. I start feeling the walls closing in. I look at my children, especially my youngest boy telling me that he wants to live with me, regardless of whether his brother comes home with him or not. The lights start to go out. I look at my financial situation and realize that as much as I want my son home with me, I just cannot physically afford it. The thunder starts to roar. The occasional tension between The Man and I hits a breaking point where we really wonder if this relationship really has what it takes. The fire begins to burn. The atmosphere at work is borderline hostile over the last couple of months and there appears to be no refuge on the horizon. The pain becomes unbearable.
In the past, way before this point I would break. I would cut myself. I would drink to excess. I would try anything dangerous I could get my hands on just to have a break from my reality and not have to think. Now, I am so tired I can't even get up to find a sharp object. The baby cries and as I'm sitting on the couch with her, she smiles. Through my tears, I cannot help but to return the smile to this beautiful toothless grin. Her eyes tell me everything will be okay, but her screams make me want to run. I look at Dave and repeat my newest mantra, "you saved my life."
I've always said that I would not let my suicidal thoughts take control because I'd NEVER want my children to ask, "why did mommy do that? Didn't she love us enough?" The truth is, I love them more than anything. More than myself. Which, I've learned, sometimes isn't the right way. But, it keeps me here. It keeps me with them. Even for just a few more minutes, hours, days, weeks... I look at Dave and say that she saved my life because I have her every day. Every. Single. Day. She needs me. I need her. She gives me purpose again. She keeps me from drinking a bottle of whiskey each night. She keeps me exhausted so that I don't have the energy to cut myself. She keeps me smiling, through it all. Even when I don't want to...
This past weekend, I got another tattoo. You may have heard about Project Semicolon. You may have also heard about Warrior Moms. My story is much more than my illness. My story is much more than what you see, and definitely more than what you hear. I am a Warrior and I will continue to fight my fight as long as it takes. And, if I can reach just one person to let them know that they are not alone, I will battle to my death, which I am hoping will be many eons down the road.
