Nearly ten months later I am feeling mentally safe enough to share this with the rest of the world. I wrote this original post not even two weeks after being Baker Acted (locked down and personal rights signed away) in a psychiatric facility for being suicidal in December of 2017. I was inspired to write Hang On and Psych Wardabout my own experience in a psych ward.
I later began therapy in January and was officially diagnosed with PTSD and dissociative symptoms in February of this year. I was suicidal until about May of this year. Some of the reason I was suicidal for so long was due to a medication that did not work for my body chemistry (I’m planning on writing a post about that soon so stay tuned).
Please note that this post is in NO WAY meant to be encouraging. It was genuinely what my mental state was at the time. So please do not read this if you struggle with self harm or thoughts of suicide. I am only sharing this because I often get asked what it’s like to be suicidal or how anyone so “happy” can think this way. I hope that you use this as a way to understand someone who is going through a dark time or suffers from depression. This is for you to gain insight to be the best friend you can be and to remember to check on even the “happiest” people. Because trust me there are very few that understand. And of all the people I know, there were only a few who checked on me and were not afraid to step in.
*Please do not read this if you are not in a mentally safe place. The contents of this blog are not uplifting. They are my raw uncut thoughts. Your mental health is more important to me than you reading this. So please use discretion when reading*
Time to get up.
I can’t remember if I showered yesterday or the day before…
It’s too late to take one now, work starts in three minuets.
I hope no one notices that my heart feels like it’s about to explode.
Good thing I work from home, it’s easier to hide.
By the end of the day I’ll feel better…
Ya I lied, I don’t feel any different than I did yesterday.
I should probably eat something.
I should go somewhere…
But I feel so down… If someone sees me like this in public, they’ll ask what’s wrong…
I can’t explain that, not without loosing it.
Besides, they’ll think I’m crazy.
Starbucks run perhaps?
It is only 7 it’s not that late.
But I’ll have to talk to the person I order from… What if they notice?
Who am I kidding… I can’t go out. I haven’t showered in three days…
Great, now it’s 9. Still not late… but what’s the point?
Now I just feel stupid for wanting to go anywhere in the first place, I knew this would happen.
A really dark room and sleep seems comforting right now…
I think I’m going to go to bed.
I hope I can wake up just a little bit earlier tomorrow than three minutes until work starts.
If you’ve read this far, thanks for sticking around. And you now know how I spend my days partying away my life…
This has honestly been a struggle for me for that last year. So much has happened in the last year and so many things I thought and hoped I had forgotten (See Healing from Spiritual Abuse and Forgiving My Abusers and My Sexual Abuse Story and How I Forgave My Abuser) seemed to just come back at once. I have been able to tell a few people about this. But to be honest, there are some people I couldn’t trust with this secret. After all my name is Joy.
Some how I am expected to always be happy, to be bright, to be exciting. And to be honest I was once that way and in some ways still am. If you met me, you would think I’m the most friendly person in the world. I don’t like to leave anyone out and I have to include people if I know they are not familiar with their surroundings. Maybe it’s because I know what it’s like to feel alone… Completely alone. And I would never want anyone to ever experience the way that feels.
I can go to a party and be surrounded by people and still feel distant from the rest of the world. It’s almost like I’m a spirit from the afterlife and I’m just a shell. I can see myself standing there with other people, but I’m not actually there. Something has woken up inside of me this year. It’s like a sleeping demon that just decided to start killing me from the inside out. All of the memories just play over and over and over…
I can’t sleep without thinking about it. I wake up with my chest so heavy from just trying to breathe. I can’t lay down a certain way because I can feel my perpetrator abusing me again. I haven’t seen her in almost 14 years and feel at times as though she is in the same room. If I drop something I hear my father shouting at me of how worthless I am and it doesn’t stop.
I don’t know if it was one specific thing that happened or something I remembered this past year that’s triggered all of these memories. Maybe it was the sexual assault? Maybe it was the abuse as a kid? Or maybe it was having to physically hold my mother’s hands so that she wouldn’t hit me over some expired food I tried to throw away? Maybe? But honestly, who knows… I don’t remember the last time I thought straight.
I hate talking about it, and I hate when people ask. But some how it’s the only thing I can talk or think about… and I just want it all to stop… to end…
I can’t be around people my age. Especially if they have kids and if those children are above 8yrs old. Most of them have kids and they are happy… And that makes me sad. I am afraid of that happiness. I am afraid that behind each of those children’s smiles that they are being beaten and abused at home. I am cynical and I cannot trust anyone’s behavior. I look for signs, constantly.
I have been called a “guardian” by some. They say I am intuitive and have “what it takes” to watch for the innocent or vulnerable. I have been called an “angel” for preventing suicides. But to be honest, I think I can see them… because I am them. It’s like our souls can see each other. It’s a dark place.
I could just open up to more people. I could just talk about it and get out of the house more. I guess I could, but to who? I already know the ones I can trust, and I know the ones I can’t. To some people, they think this is some sort of game. Another story they can talk about. I know who they are, and they are not friends of mine. But shouldn’t I open up to someone who cares? Would they even understand anyway… Probably not. They’ll probably send me a bunch of articles that they’ve never read before to try to be helpful. I don’t need articles… I write them… I don’t need “advise” that’s my therapist’s job. What I need is a friend. I still like to watch movies, I still like to laugh, I just don’t remember how… So please remind me. That’s all I’m asking.
I am currently going to therapy to work out all of the trauma that’s on repeat inside my head. Sometimes that makes me fear that I will one day not be a “good enough” counselor. People want to talk to someone that’s stable, not someone that’s a constant mess. But who knows, maybe the people I counsel won’t mind that?
And Guys… That’s all I have for the moment… There’s so much more I want to tell you. But I’m just not ready. I’ve always hoped that this would be a self help and happy place. After all it is “Happy Thinks”. Where I share with you how to get through your struggles. But now I’m sharing with you mine. This is me, no one more no one less.
I think the worst of this started around the Holidays. I had just written about Why you should be miserable. and Dear Self. Two posts about finally seeing the other side. Just when I thought things were looking up, all of the bad memories came back. I got so busy with Toys for Texas, I didn’t have time to think, but now that the holidays are over, I’m back here. Back to some of the worst months of my life that I can rembember they go Nov-Jan for me. Nov when I tried to commit suicide at 17, Dec when my grandmother died, and Jan the abuse became the worst it had ever been. It’s sounds, smells, or even certain songs (Sadly Christmas some music) that will trigger memories I never want to remember. I’d been able to get through them before, but somehow this year was different.
When I started this blog, I started it as therapy. And I promised myself that I would always be real with what I wrote. I hope if anything you know you are not alone. It doesn’t matter if something happened to you 40 years ago and you still struggle with it, that pain you feel is real. Trust me, I know. It’s about the realest thing in my life right now. And for the moment it also means that we keep fighting and not give up.
I know this will subside in time. All emotions are like waves. They will pass on and calm down.
And really I do want to hear from you. How do you cope with child abuse or sexual trauma. I’m not asking for a friend, I’m asking for me.
Special thanks to the people who have been walking through this with me every step. To my Husband who has been there for me on the best and worst days. I would not have made it this far or gotten help without him.
To my sister who has always helped me stay rational.
And to my friend Liz who has helped me leave the house for coffee and just to have fun.