LOST IN HELL
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’m done. I’ve succeeding in pushing my husband away. Guess I learned from the best. Here I am, suicidal, and I’m not sure why I haven’t just done it already. – An entry I made in my notepad on my phone on April 15th, 2021. Two days before I admitted myself into a mental hospital.
About nine months ago, this was me. Completely mad. Completely losing my mind. I was in a very deep depression and dealing with severe anxiety. Ok, that’s fine, that’s great, I can deal with that, I thought. I’ve dealt with shit like this before. I then started having nightmares. I couldn’t tell you what they were about now, only that they were evil and I was in hell. I remember punching my husband a few times during these dreams and him waking shaking me trying to get me out of it. They got so bad that I’d scream and my husband would have to hold me through it. At one point it got to where I couldn’t sleep unless he was holding my hand. I still thought, ok I can deal with this. Until, all of a sudden, not only was I living in this holy hell, a hell I don’t wish upon anyone, but I started having the worst thoughts a human being can ever have. They devoured me. They consumed every inch of my mind like nothing I have ever experienced before.
You know like when you have a crush on someone, or you fall in love for the first time and you’re entire life revolves around that one person? Suddenly all of your thoughts are of that one person and it’s like you’re in heaven. Yeah, that’s not how this was. Imagine HELL. Actual HELL! And there was no escape. I was convinced there was something wrong with my brain, that I had finally lost my mind! My every thought was, KILL YOURSELF. Every internal voice spoke, “Kill Yourself.”, “End your Life”, “Do it NOW”! Suddenly I had absolutely zero control over my mind or my thoughts and had very little control left over my actions. I can not explain it any other way besides, it was just that, actual HELL.
I’d wake up in the morning and place my feet on the ground. My first thought? I want to die. I’m driving my kid to school. I’m thinking why am I even here, she (my daughter) deserves better. Kill yourself already and end everyone’s misery.
I was working for my brother at the time. He lived just down the street so it was easy and extremely convenient. I’d drop my daughter off at school and come home and search for some kind of alcohol to drink or some pill to take the edge off so that I could stand to endure another day of working. Not that my job was bad. I enjoyed it. It allowed me a lot of time to think. Which was great for me in the beginning. Until THOSE thoughts took over. I would sit there at that dining room table only a tad bit relaxed from the drink I had before driving down the road, and my thoughts were consumed with plans for ending it all. Visions of myself surrounded by the empty alcohol bottles and empty pill bottles as I lay there lifeless. Visions of myself in the tub, nothing but blood around me. And that, in my mind, was what needed to happen. It was the only answer. It was the only thing that made sense.
Only it didn’t make sense at all. WHY was I having these thoughts. This wasn’t normal. This was so deeply abnormal, and I knew it. I just had zero control. My mind had completely gone mad and I was simply the bystander watching as this shit show took place. I’d think to myself, how fucked up must I be to be having these thoughts, I am literally insane! I have to kill myself because I have gone completely mad and there is no other choice. I was scared. I was terrified. I have never been so scared in my life .
I started asking for help. I have only a few people in my life that I love with everything I have and I went to them right away. I said, “Look, I’m severely fucked up right now.” “It’s going to be ok. We’re here if you need to talk”, they would say. I’d say, “No, you don’t get it, I am FUCKED up. I keep having these thoughts and plans in my head and I can’t control myself. This is the plan that I have in my head and I’m going to follow through with it one way or another.” I asked everyone in my “circle” to please watch me. Keep an eye out because this is what I’m thinking and this is what I am planning to do. I know what you’re thinking. People who are suicidal don’t tell people. That’s the whole point, right? You suffer alone and then it comes as this huge shock to everyone, right? Yeah, that’s what I always believed also. That’s not how it was for me. I KNEW my head was beyond gone, but there was NOTHING I could do about it. And it just got worse and worse and louder and louder.
I drank more and more. I already drank too much and became very dependent on alcohol. But during this time I drank all day. Not while at work, but before work, after work, and at night until the voices slightly faded and I was able to go to sleep. I started cutting myself. I was so angry with myself for feeling the way I felt and for having the thoughts that I constantly had, that I felt I needed to be punished. So, every time I had these thoughts I would cut myself. I enjoyed it. Enjoyed the pain. Even now, looking back, my mind must still be screwed, because I miss the release it gave me. Anyway, I wanted to Punish myself for being so damn stupid! It helped for like, a second. Distracted my mind with pain. But all it did in the long run was make the voices that much louder. “See, you’re so stupid and worthless you’re cutting yourself, you deserve to die!” That’s what they told me.
I started this blog because I need an outlet. I am shaking as I type this, but it needs to come out. I started this diary because I want people to know they are not alone in this. It may not be the same for others, and their experience may be completely different from mine, but this is my story. My story, that as you can see, did not end.
-Sincerely Brutal
If you need support now, you can call or text the Suicide and Crisis Life Line 988.
