Floodgate of destruction

Saturday December 7th was probably the hardest day.  Even now days later, I can still feel the pain in the pit of my stomach (I do not intend to let it get any bigger).

I could not write, do anything, but cry and run.

I could no longer hold back the tears.  The emotional pain was too great.  So great that it pushed open the gates and the tears rushed through.

Clamshell floodgates at the Arrowrock Dam.
Clamshell floodgates at the Arrowrock Dam. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

They were so great that I could not control them.  Try as I might, I could not stop them from coming.  No matter what room I tried to retreat to, the tears still flooded my eyes.

I soon realized that I hated myself.

I was full of hurt and pain and rejection from over the years.

I was full of anger toward myself and others.

The pain of the depression took me to another level of hopelessness.

It spoke to me.

If I was this full of hurt, pain, anger and resentment, it was no wonder I was alone.  No wonder no one had my back.  The depression spoke to the deep recesses of my being and told me I was not worth loving.  Not worth the good thoughts of others.  That I would always be alone.  That I could accomplish nothing.

I asked God how could anyone take this kind of pain and a small voice whispered, you will get through it.

I did not know how, so I did what I could do and I got dressed and ran from the house.  I got in my car and drove to my safety person with tears in my eyes.  I had to get away from me.  That is where the pain, desparation and depression laid.  It was becoming overwhelming.

I knew suicide was desparate and selfish but for one miniscule moment I did not care.  I just wanted the emotional pain to stop.  There was no pill to make it stop.  Nothing.  So I ran.

I went to psychotherapy and I also spent time with my safety person.  We prayed and I was now weary.  The rest of the day is a blur, but I do know I came back home and slept.

I had to go back to share this day becasue it seemed as though it was the hardest and almost my weakest.  Almost my weakest becasue for that one very brief moment, the thought of suicide seemed like a way out of the pain.  Thankfully it was for a very very brief moment.  I am glad I am still here.  I have so much to live for and everything that I was feeling will work itself out as time goes on.  As I continue with psychotherapy and prayer and thankfulness and working the wellness plan, I will be able to move beyond that day and the floodgate of tears.

you can too.  you are not alone in how you feel at any given time.  there is always someone who cares.  make sure you have a safety person, a safety place and a safety word.  The hospital was not the answer for me.  I thank God for a safety plan that got me through.

love to all

pb aka peanut butter

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Author: Fighter

I finally accepted what people have been telling me. I am full of knowledge and wisdom and I am unforgettable. My word of encouragement since 2015 has been to let others know, despite the waves and ripples in our lives, Life is totally awesome, even with a mental illness. I believe my purpose is to encourage others, advocate for those around me who have not yet found their voice to advocate for themselves and educate those without a mental illness. If for one for minute someone laughs or smiles because of something I said, that is one moment they did not think about mental illness.

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