Life goes on

Therapy has released my inner demons. 

I thought I had dealt with the pain of the past. As much as each session helps in releasing buried troubles, it brings back memories of a painful past. The drama queen in me awakens to self pity and the poor me syndrome starts again making any public activity after a session impossible. My first appointment went unexpectedly calmly. A friend accompanied me as she sensed I would need some moral support afterwards. The second appointment was for a mere 15 mins as I had mixed up the times and missed 45 mins of it. I raced to the venue as I was so desperate to talk about the knife incident. I needed to be validated as a human being. The psychologist was so kind and understanding. No time for tears though. Literally. I was aching to cry . I guess I saw tears as a release of the pain. My sweet caring friend accompanied me again, all in a flurry in her attempt to be there for me.  My third session was hectic. I needed some prayer goods and went to the mall after. What a mistake!! I was miserable from the crying. The memory bubbles were exploding rapidly inside my head. Mercilessly invading all happy thoughts. I parked my car and rushed to the ladies room, head held down to hide my sad tear stained face from strangers. Shopping was a nightmare. I rushed in and out and drove home, vowing to never again schedule any public outings immediately after a therapy appointment. The fourth session was heavy too. Writing about it now is also tough. I want them gone. Buried deep inside and forgotten forever. Erased from my memory. I can't believe  I've had four sessions already. 

The way life is proceeding is not encouraging at times. I'm vulnerable right now. I tried to slit my wrists because I was screaming to be noticed. I was shouting out trying to say that I too am important, listen to me, respect me, validate me, stop brushing me off! But no. Taking such a drastic step merely gets attention for that moment only. A week later you back to square one. Told to "get over it." My mental torture is not seen. It's a sad disease, this depression. There is no physical symptom to show. The scars are all within. The heart raw with pain. From being  broken so many times. Your insides are rivers of unshed tears, churning within the depths of you. A flood raging in your soul, threatening to break the floodgates without warning. And it does too. Late at night, when you hear a song, a smell of your mum or dad, a movie plot, a storyline, a food you eat. All triggers. No wonder people try again. The desperation is so visible to me only it seems. 

Feels like my duality is catching up with me. The black is over riding the white right now. I'm struggling to hide my depression from the world. So I smile and live as positively as I can. Some days the white overrides the black and a lot of the times there is balance. Other days like today, it's tough. Dark. Sad. Empty. 

Ive been here before. I've overcome the darkness. I will triumph now too. It's just taking me a little longer. I'm so grateful for my friends who know not the details but know that I need a crutch right now. I'm grateful for my therapist. I'm grateful for the patience of the Universe. It is not my job to end my pain. That's the job of my Creator. My job is to be sane in this insane world and my job is to balance my black and white and my job is to be the best mother to my children. They are my beacons. My soul purpose. My world. 

Thanks for reading. Peace and love

Lady S

And then there were 3......

I lost my brother on 24.08.15. He had suffered a stroke the year before and was in recovery. He suddenly got pains that night and passed away in the car on the way to hospital. I'm devastated by his loss. His death has unleashed an avalanche of emotions that I thought was locked away. I weep for a family lost. I have two sisters remaining, one of whom is ill a lot. I weep for the past. I'm haunted by memories of a family lost and broken away from each other. I weep for the pain I got through out my early years at home. I fear that I will be the last one to die. I do not want to be the last one. 

I am already on antidepressants since January 2015. This loss had deepened my depression. The problem from Jan has returned. A promise broken twice damages the soul in a harsh way. I can't trust anymore. I was told that what was done to me was not wrong. In a crying, sad, enraged, very hurt state one morning at 2am I took a knife to my wrist in sheer desperation. I was stopped from hurting myself. It's scary how I was seconds away. No one will understand the emotions of a suicidal person unless they have been through it. I get it now. How you beg to be understood. How you beg for the other person to be reasonable so your sanity remains. How you are pushed to the edge, how you are made to feel like you are thrash, like you deserve to be punished this way. You scream for justice till your throat hurts. Adrenaline was pumping through me as the denial went on. I begged. Nothing. I ran around my room as the energy surged through my tired body. I had being crying since hours before. I tried sooooo hard to control myself. I tried to run away from the knife drawer. It was as if I had no control over my body. My mind was saying NO PLEASE STOP!!!! My body heard nothing. It was like someone else had control of me. I was terrified yet I couldn't stop myself. 

Why must people wait until you almost hurt yourself before they stop giving you pain. Why is this life so hard at times? On top of everything else I get nightmares. I sleepwalk, I hallucinate while dreaming and I often wake up screaming. Now the depression is worse. I'm just started seeing a psychologist. Too early to see any results. I have been promised that things will change for the better. Let's see. Problem is, I've heard this promise a few times before. 

 

Meanwhile I eat non stop or I don't eat much. I sleep a lot or I'm wide awake a lot. I drank wine after ten years. To make the ache go away. It worked but for a short time. The pain never goes away. People think I'm deliberately bringing up the past. Not true. I don't know how to handle the betrayal so I keep wondering how and why it happened. Is there something wrong with me? Why am I not respected? Why am I not loved enough to be number one so that I'm always put before others? Why am I lied to? Why am I hurt again and again? Why am I chosen over others? Why am I forgotten so fast? Why why why?

Thank you for reading....wishing you peace and love

From a very sad Lady S 😔