The secrets we keep…

Today was strange.  This morning I received notification that someone at my work place took her own life last Friday.  I didn’t know her – she wasn’t on my team.  But, I did walk past her desk every day.  And, I probably walked past her as I was leaving on Friday, excited about my weekend, oblivious to her misery.  But, aren’t we all?

I know how it is to feel that hopeless.  Not so long ago, I was sitting on my bathroom floor with a bottle of vodka, cough syrup, and painkillers… while my cat cried outside the door and my dad and sister blew up my phone.  I felt like a burden to everyone.  Some like to say those who commit suicide are selfish, but I know better.

In my head, I truly believed the world would be better without me.  My parents wouldn’t have to support the daughter that couldn’t get her life together, my sister wouldn’t have to listen to me cry on the phone every time my alcoholic, ex-boyfriend drug me into his cave of misery… my friends, my coworkers, my employer, my classmates, and professors?  They no longer had to watch me slowly tear myself apart.

I was sick.  I needed help, not judgement.

I answered the phone and listened to my dad cry and blame himself.  Then I realized that I couldn’t leave – because as much as I thought their lives would be better, the hole I left would never heal.  I won’t lie – I still feel it some days.  There are afternoons when I sit at my desk in my tiny cubicle and imagine the blood spilling onto the keyboard… or morning’s when I wonder if swerving in front of a semi would be quick and painless.

Those thoughts are fleeting now and are easier to overcome (with the help of past therapy and current medications).  But, I still struggle to open up to the people I love.  I want desperately to spill my inner-most thoughts, but the devil on my shoulder tells me to stop being so needy, stop being an attention whore… to just.. stop.

What kills me the most is the idea of other people feeling the way I did.  We suffer in silence because the stigma is still so prominent.  There was nothing I could do, I know that.  I know that.

 

 

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Feeling so blah

I haven’t written much lately – not because I haven’t wanted to or needed to but because the words just seem to stay stuck in my brain.  Things have just been strange.  I do not have a better way to describe or explain myself…

Sometimes I feel submissive and other times, I just feel nothing.  These are things I need to talk about more with Sir, but there just never seems to be enough time in the day… and maybe that bothers me too.  A lot.

As an aside, I am seeing my doctor on Friday afternoon to discuss some mental health related items.  I believe that I am struggling to stay in my usual submissive mindset because I am working so hard to not let my depression/anxiety throw me off a cliff.

For a few weeks, life was hitting me with one blow after another.  I think it has calmed down now and I am finally getting the chance to reflect and figure out what I want – in all aspects!

I finally started writing, except what I was thought was going to be erotica has turned into romance.  I used to be really against the sappy stuff… but the older I get, the softer my heart gets.  😉