Struggling so Much

I did an amazing job at reaching out today. I had a fever of 103.1 and the pain from surgery was more than I could take and then my coparenting relationship gets more screwed up daily and that is extremely emotionally painful for me.

As I said, I reached out. I told people I was overwhelmed and in trouble. For the first time in a really long time, I want to die. I know it’s all the pain talking and feeling like I’m going to be stuck in this high amount of physical pain forever, but it’s wearing away at me. It’s wearing away at me that I have to reach out to others, but others don’t reach out to me very often. It’s wearing away at me that when I say I’m in real trouble, people shrug me off because I show such “strength”.

Everyone hits their breaking point, and I’m hitting mine. If you’ve ever been in excruciating physical pain combined with excruciating emotional pain, which is a combination of being alone during the holidays, not being able to talk to my child without it being monitored, and toss in some financial stress and a general forgetfulness of your coping skills, it’s a recipe for disaster.

I recognize my friends were all busy tonight, and I’m proud of myself for trying multiple people with multiple responses of being busy. I get so tired of people posting on Facebook that they are people you can call because they are always listening if you have serious thoughts of being suicidal. Funny thing is, they are too busy to listen! I know I’m strong, but I’m also in trouble right now.

I learned so much about the beauty of connecting with others while I was in the hospital, but now I feel like all I’m learning about is the true reality and that is that people really want to disappoint you as they can’t handle your pain. I’ve “talked many people off the ledge” so to speak, but today people said they could get to me tomorrow. It hurts.

As I sit here and stare at my lethal amount of pills in my possession, I’m angry that my despair and hopelessness gets put off until tomorrow. Yeah I’m strong, but yeah I’m in trouble too.

I want to mention I have one friend who lives in close proximity to me who would probably listen, but it was my friends that have experienced true suicidal feelings that I wanted to talk too. I’m grateful for that one friend, but today I’m feeling like I’m only important when others need me, but when my own life is at stake, they’ll get to it when they get to it. I didn’t want to overwhelm my friend who is close by.

Instead of taking all those pills, I decided I’d write about the very real feelings of suicide as I know I’m not alone in this feeling and definitely not the only person who has experienced it. I hate feeling like the world would be better off without me, and I especially hate that I think my son would be better off without me, because as I said, I’m in a super screwed up coparenting relationship and perhaps my son wouldn’t be confused anymore if I were just gone.

I’m not going to kill myself tonight, I just really feel strongly that the world is done with me, and I with it. Again, I know it’s the intense pain talking and the feeling that no one had time to care about me today and it was probably the worst day of my whole year. I always make time for people in distress, im so freaking angry that all I get are texts that I’m strong.

So don’t be scared loyal readers and followers, I’ll live to see another day, but maybe some of you, even if you don’t know me could send me some encouraging words. I know I’ve been through a lot and I’m going through a lot, but even the self assured need assurance sometimes, and I especially need it tonight.

I’m clinging to a pink teddy bear for life as someone who I know cares from a distance sent it recently. I’m trying to feel the love with which she sent it to come into me to fill that dark hole that wants to die.

And to my normal support system, could you amp up the support, just for a little while as I try to heal from surgery and move into my new house and especially as I’m helpless in everything I can’t do? I’m sorry to be burdensome, but I need a lot of help right now as I can’t drive and can barely move. Even if you know me a little, can you send me a message as to why I should keep going?

If this blog means anything to you, please tell me soon. I can’t do it alone. None of us can, and I’m not sure I’m holding on for too much longer at this rate.

I don’t ask for much, but I deeply need support. Remember, your comments can always be anonymous.

I’m trying to hang on but if the world doesn’t need me, I’m certainly feeling like I don’t need me. I’m hoping the morning will bring new perspective and maybe I’ll wake up to some encouragement.

Sorry this post has been so depressing, but believe it or not, everyday of my life comes nothing close to perfect and today I just couldn’t see any good. I at least hope that others who have struggled like I am right now try to reach out and do something different as I am now by being very real that this is hard.

Love

Lizzie

2 thoughts on “Struggling so Much”

  1. Whether I comment or not, it’s my practice to always read your posts as I’m notified of them automatically.

    There are so many similarities and parallels for me, not sure if you’d believe it.

    Since I’ve been at so much of this, so many things in so many ways, since I was a kid, it’s just become normal for me. Also, I’ve learned not to compare myself and my situation at all. That only seems to be setting myself up for too much self negativity. Better that someone who thinks they’re right and they’re normal should be upset because I’m not like them. And I have an ample supply of self negativity whenever I feel the need.

    Not here to offer any words of advice nor encouragement, as I know you most likely could get a supply of those that would make you gag. Me too, so I know. They mean well, but they can only do and say what they may, in order to satiate their own emotional needs and concerns. They have to “do something” so that’s what they do. At best, they may distract you just enough so that you can take the edge off, take a moment, take a step back. I usually end up feeling just the same, but today I’m still here and that’s good for me. And probably for good for my dog too. Yes…

    Holidays… It’s not that I’ve become so hardened that I no longer “feel”. Part of it has just been a learned manner of a survival technique. That is, I’m more of an observe these days, on the outside, on the fringe, watching the craziness whirl around like a dervish circling my area of safety and solitude. It’s like the world doesn’t even know I’m still here, or know that I ever was for that matter. I just chuckle, because for myself that’s a good thing. Being like a ghost, without actually becoming one, has some upsides and advantages. Therein resides what positivity I may have, my own unique flavor of resolve, and the realm within I continue to exist which is a half-step outside of what most people consider reality. As long as it works, it works for me. No outside advice, opinions, concerns, etc, needed.

    Be yourself, and to yourself be true. Getting to the point of realization that it no longer mattered what I may do, or not do, to anyone except only myself was a profound event. It was a moment, followed by a long time of wave after wave, of repetitions of that moment. The most painful, intense anguish, empty, regretful, and most lonely place that exists. So many times, I had thoughts like yours. So many times, just a heartbeat away… Still, today, I am here.

    I was thinking about going to attend one of many local Thanksgiving Dinners put on by local churches or organizations in my area. Something I haven’t done for several years now. Then a few days before Turkey Day, my old dog injures a front leg. Jumping around, bruises the shoulder and paw, and comes up lame. Nothing broken, just arthritis and trying to act like a puppy. For a few days, she can barely walk, so I have to be here. Turkey Day becomes a trip up to the fuel stop for cigarettes at 3:00 AM and a tub of truck driver special Tub-O-TunaMac salad. LoL Also over slept and missed watching the parades on TV. Oh well… My dog is slowly getting her leg back again.

    Then, I find out that a wonderful person, that I worked with for about 2 years at an area library a few years ago, had passed away. What struck me is that I felt some genuine grief for this persons life being over. I’ve lost a few “relatives” over the last decade and have felt little to nothing at all over them. Family can sometimes be more of a 4 letter word than a 4 letter word! Working at the small town library had it’s own sense of a sort of “family” for me. At least something that gave me a glimpse of and a sense of understanding of being a “part of”. Much more so than any past family relations or interactions had ever done.

    My world, by most common standards, is very tiny. I have one biological nephew that I remain in contact with, 2 neighbors that I chat with when I see them outside occasionally, a handful of people online with similar interests. I have 8 people on my personal FaceBook page, and that includes my nephew and online friends.

    I know what it’s like to be alone. To be forgotten. To be abandoned. To be left behind. To not exist within the parameters of what most people consider to be normal. I observe. I also appreciate. I appreciate that you took the time to write and to share your thoughts and experiences. I appreciate the choice you made today. Thank You. Carry on…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. So much tragedy in what you wrote, but also so much beauty. It has been a hard one for me as I really and genuinely appreciate my solitude. I’m content to spend most of my time alone, observing, as you say. I’m content to listen to my music, read a good book, work on writing the one I hope to publish, and most especially, cuddle my now 2 dogs. Those dogs keep me going. It may sound silly , but I think you know.
      I understand what it’s like to be in a crowded room and still be alone. It used to bother me, but now I have me, and what so much of your comment meant for me me was a reminder that I have me, always, and I like who I am and I tend to be my own good company and enjoy independence more than anything.
      What I was learning slowly was to let people into my life gently and genuinely and very slowly. With having major back surgery, i went into the hospital an independent woman, to only emerge 2 weeks later completely dependent. My slow and gentle way of letting people in all of a sudden was totally forced as I can’t do laundry, can barely cook anything, definitely can’t drive, and with moving in a few days, I’ve had to beg and plead with people for help as I don’t have the resources to just pay someone. It’s like my beautiful solitude is vanished into thin air.
      Then there’s my son. He’s 11 and I love him dearly, but his father won’t coparent with me and is quick to pin any of my sons issues on me, despite the fact that his wife was substantiated on child abuse charges. It’s a situation that is so out of control, and i once again have no resources to fight any of it, except hope and pray we will all see some light and truly listen to my son and do what’s best. Not having my little sidekick has been causing me immeasurable sadness, but I suppose that’s way more than I should say about that.
      The beauty of your comment wasn’t that you just said, “you are strong, you’ll make it”, the beauty is that you chose to write something so authentic and instead of making comments that isolated me more, you made a comment that made me feel connected. The whole point of my blog is about authenticity and connection and your comment, at least for me, achieved that more than anything I’ve written.
      So thank you for letting me know I’m not alone. Thank you for telling me your thanksgiving was spent at a gas station with your loving dog. Thank you for letting me know our stories parallel. I sit with tears rolling down my cheeks because even though I don’t know you, you cared enough to comment in such an authentic way that doesn’t necessarily make me jump for joy at living this life, but it makes my heart feel peaceful to know I’m not alone in all this jumbled up mess that trauma causes us, even to the point we want to end it.
      So thank you thank you thank you. Without knowing me anymore from what I write, you managed to help more than even my dearest friends.
      Please email me if you’d ever like to have more in depth conversations. I feel like you are a kindred spirit making it through this world with the aid of your dog and now me and I you.
      I also wanted to let you know I understand what you mean about grief. I have grieved people I’ve known far more than biology.
      With much love and connection and gratitude for your comment,
      Lizzie

      Like

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