Today I woke up and I wanted to die.
Reading that sentence, the people who don’t understand will panic and freak out. They will not see that it is not me talking but is in fact my depression.
It is hard to explain it; the feeling of wanting to die.
It isn’t that I want to end my life. I love my life. I love my husband and his family. I love my friends. I love my job. I do not want to end my life; I want to end my pain.
Today I woke up sad and I cannot explain why. It could be because of the painful things I discussed in therapy yesterday. It could be because this weekend was Father’s Day or it could be because I am struggling with feelings about my mother. Maybe it is because the reality of the abuse and the police involvement and possible court case has finally hit me. I do not know. I cannot pin point it. My mind is a blur and I cannot concentrate.
I feel completely overwhelmed by sadness. The kind of sadness you feel when you grieve. The kind of sadness that isn’t just sadness but that is also a pain. A pain so strong that you can physically feel it in your chest.
It is an ache so unbearable that I am starting to feel like I cannot take much more. “Heartbreak” my therapist calls it. I am grieving she says, mourning the loss of my childhood, my family and my innocence.
I am afraid. I feel lost. I feel like I am crumbling and I cannot stop it. Tears fill my eyes as I sit in a ball. I feel like I am sinking, drowning, but I cannot cry.
Then suddenly it hits me again. The thought I hate but one that comes every so often. The thought of death; if I died everything would be so much better.
Death is an escape so inviting for it could end this pain. It could end this sadness. Death seems peaceful.
If you could read my mind right now you would be in tears. You would see the pain, the fear and the sadness that I endure every single day. You would see that I am not living but in fact just surviving.
However, you would also see my courage. You would see my strength. You would see the battle I have with myself every single day, a battle to live. My fight for survival.
You would see that the cuts and burns and bruises that cover my arms and body are my weapons to keep me alive. That on days like today, when I want to die, to end my pain and to disappear, that they are the very things keeping me alive.
Until I learn to cry, those cuts, those burns, those bruises are the only way that I can release my pain and sadness. The alternative is death. For death is peaceful. Death would take it all away.
Yes, death is inviting, but death would also mean my abuser wins. Death would mean he could carry on and hurt another innocent child. Without me there is no evidence, no case, no-one to fight to protect other children. So I have to fight deaths calling, I have to fight to survive.
Some people won’t understand the feeling of wanting to die, the need to escape.
My past haunts me constantly. Pain and sadness so dark and so deep that it hurts every minute of every day, there is no relief.
Today I woke up and I wanted to die. I wanted to end my pain. That is what depression is; living in a body fighting to survive with a mind that wants to die.
Some days I am OK, some days I am not. Today my heart hurts and today I am overwhelmed by sadness. Today I am not OK and tomorrow might be the same but I will never except deaths invite because I am a survivor.
Fighting for survival is what I do.
I always have, I always will.
Thanks for reading
**Image courtesy of Google Images**