I'm writing this because I've reached the point where im unsure of what else to do. I'm living everyday on the egde of suicide and I don't know how much more of this I can take. If anyone ends up reading this, maybe it'll help you understand how I feel, or how I view parts of everyday life. Here goes;
I wake up every morning un-able to move. It's almost as if i've awoken, but my brain hasnt quite switched on yet. As I slowly come to my senses, I think about getting up. I feel extremely weak, and my body aches. I sit, thinking about getting up for a long time; this process can literally take hours.
Because I'm scared. Getting out of bed means I'm accepting the fact that I'm still alive. I don't want to accept that. Somehow just laying here, means delaying it. I delay it as long as possible, because even if I do accept it, It's not guaranteed.
I'm alive, but who's to say that I won't crumble the second my foot touches the floor? That I won't break down in tears as my protective wall comes crashing down around me? That I won't self harm because I'm stuck in this cycle of numbness?
When I force myself out of bed and onto the ground, I feel physically sick. I first get pins and needles in my hands, and I feel weak when they travel up my arms and down my legs. Before I know it, my entire body is numb. I pinch myself, and it does nothing. I don't feel anything.
If I self harm, I become more aware of my body. I make small cuts from my wrists up my forarm. While I'm actually cutting, I feel nothing. I watch the blood come out of my body, thinking about how it should be hurting me; but it doesn't.
About 5 minutes after I've stopped, the cuts start to burn. They sting and are very sensitive. I'm happy that I'm actually feeling something. When someone notices I've cut, it bothers them. They're either upset or angry. I don't like when people have negative emotions about me, when they're disappointed in me. They don't understand it just makes me feel worse.
I never used to cut much. Once every few months. But then once every few months became a few times a month.A few times a month became a few times a week. And a few times a week became every day.
I talk to both a psychologist and psychiatrist weekly, and have been for 2 years. It hasn't helped me one bit.
Bi-polar, Schizophrenia, Psychosis, Depression and Anxiety are the conditions i deal with on a daily basis. It's difficult, and near impossible. I'll try and hold on as best I can, though i cant promise anything.
Mary xx.
