If you are experiencing suicidal thoughts, the following post may be triggering. If you need support now, you can call or text the Suicide and Crisis Life Line 988.

I was suicidal. That’s the only way to explain it. I was constantly hearing voices in my head telling me to end it. I started planning in my head what I would do to end it all. That was the only choice and that was the way it had to be. I was having HORRIBLE nightmares. Terrifying nightmares where I would scream so loud in the middle of the night and wake my husband. I don’t remember what those nightmares were about specifically. I can only say that it was pure evil. My husband would hold me and tell me it was going to be ok and then hold my hand until I fell back asleep. This was every night and was only getting worse. I also was in a very deep depression. I didn’t realize this until later on when I was admitted into the mental hospital and was told I was severely depressed. Hmmmm, well no shit. I should have known this. I just wanted to sleep all the time and NEVER wake up. Every time I laid down I wanted it to be the last time. I wasn’t eating. I only wanted to drink and damn it to hell I was furious I didn’t have some type of hard drugs in my house.

I’ve dealt with anger issues my whole life. I get furious at the drop of a hat. I say it was my only emotion for a LONG time. Anger was the only thing I would ever feel. Sadness was replaced with anger. There was no happiness. I’d wake up pissed off. Go to work pissed off. And nothing pissed me off more than coming home at the end of the day after picking up my daughter and knowing that I would have to take care of my family for the rest of the evening and night. Just PISSED me off to no end! Infuriated me!! I hated coming home. Hated it. Towards the end I was so depressed I’d just plant myself on the couch and sleep. To hell with my family, they could fend for themselves. That’s how I felt. (To this day I can’t sit in that spot on the couch. It makes me totally freak out inside. Just thinking about it makes me want to break down.) (It’s also another reason I want to move away from our house and why I began painting every wall and trying to change everything when I got home from the hospital. But that’s another blog to come in the future.)

I was still cutting myself. It served the purpose of punishing myself for having the thoughts I was having and the feelings I was having. It distracted my mind just enough for a few minutes. I used shears. They were very sharp, but not sharp enough. Nothing major and then I’d get pissed because there wouldn’t be enough blood. I cut my leg and there was more blood, that made me happy. Read that sentence again. Go ahead. How fucked up and stupid in the head was I to enjoy cutting myself and seeing myself bleed out? I’d have visions of myself in the tub completely obliterated and blood all around. That was inevitable to me at the time. It was going to happen!

But, it didn’t have to be this way. A very small part of me knew that I was bat shit crazy and losing my mind. I knew that all of this was not normal and that I needed some serious help. If you have ever had to literally fight your mind and your thoughts, you know what I’m talking about. The mind is an extremely powerful thing!! I never knew what my mind was capable of until I went through all of this. And when I tell people today, I know they don’t get it. But someone out there does. Someone out there has been through it or is going through it and knows what I’m talking about.

I could still sense a little part of ME inside. I had small infrequent moments when the real ME would show up. Those were the times I took full advantage and started asking for help. I told my husband. I told him everything and that I didn’t know what was going to happen and I told him how terrified I was for my life. One night, in bed, I cried and cried and told him everything. I showed him where I’d been cutting myself. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes. So scared. So confused and so lost. I knew he wanted to help but didn’t know how. He held my hand until I fell asleep.

At that time I was working for my brother in his home right down the street from my house. This was so convenient and played into my cutting myself and drinking very easily. Not like a REAL job, right? Where I’d have to show up and be normal. This was the easiest job ever. I just had to show up and make things with my hands and I could sit in silence the entire time. The entire time fighting my mind.

I finally told my brother one day during one of our work breaks. I told my brother and my sister n law the thoughts I had been having while crying and told him that I was terrified of being alone. During this time I got off of work at about 11:30am if I remember correctly. So I had over 3 hours of alone time to deal with before having to go and pick up my daughter. This time was both precious and very scary for me. I didn’t want to be alone, yet I wanted nothing more than to be alone and carry through with the plan in my head. So, during the time the real ME would peak through, I cried and told my brother just to keep an eye on me, check in with me during those times when I was alone because I was afraid of what I might do to myself. He offered that I just hang out at his place. I didn’t want to do that. Didn’t want to be a burden. Didn’t want any awkwardness. Plus, the part of me that was in Hell, really wanted to be alone so I could punish myself and follow through with my plan. This version of me was extremely stronger than the tiny girl inside fighting for her life.

It wasn’t long before I started regretting telling anyone anything. I am pretty sure my husband and my brother started communicating at that time. It was like I had sitter all the time. Someone was always calling me or showing up at the house to check on me during the time that I would be alone.

My husband even reached out to my best friend, I call her a sister as I have known her since kindergarten and she is definitely an aunt to my daughter. My husband reached out to her and I don’t know exactly what was said, but she started either calling me right at noon after I’d gotten off of work, or she’d show up at my house. This made me furious. I didn’t like being babysat. I didn’t like being checked up on. This interfered with my drinking, cutting myself, and the ability to follow through with my plan. My friend worked her own business at home and she was able to check on me. She would show up when I got off of work and I would be so annoyed and didn’t want to answer the door. We’d talk awkwardly and I’d tell her she didn’t need to be there. She wouldn’t take it. I love her for that. The little girl inside me was very grateful that she was there. But it didn’t matter. I didn’t give a shit about anyone or any thing. I was pissed at the world and tired of battling with my mind. At this time I had just made up my mind that much more that I was going to drink myself to death. That’s what needed to happen. It’s crazy. I am SO thankful that I had people who cared enough to check up on me. That friend is the only reason I am alive today. But, when I think about it, really think about it. I get pissed off!! Wish she hadn’t shown up. That’s the fucked up part of my mind that is still healing. I believe the babysitting only took place for a few days. Though it feels like it was a lot longer.

Here’s where it gets foggy. I only remember snip its from here on out. It’s very blurry and it hurts me to think about. I’ve got PTSD from everything that happens next. Just thinking about it right now I feel my inner temperature start to go up and tears trying to come and panic set in. There are still places in the house I can’t sit because of it. Certain TV shows I don’t like to watch at certain times of day. Certain feelings come up and it’s a feeling like I’ve never felt before. I don’t wish these feelings on anyone.

I’ve got to take a break now. I’ve learned certain feelings must be acknowledged and dealt with.

-Sincerely Brutal

If you need support now, you can call or text the Suicide and Crisis Life Line 988.