“Killing oneself is, anyway, a misnomer. We don’t kill ourselves. We are simply defeated by the long, hard struggle to stay alive. When somebody dies after a long illness, people are apt to say, with a note of approval, “He fought so hard.” And they are inclined to think, about a suicide, that no fight was involved, that somebody simply gave up. This is quite wrong.”
― Sally Brampton, Shoot The Damn Dog: A Memoir Of Depression
“If I can’t feel, if I can’t move, if I can’t think, and I can’t care, then what conceivable point is there in living?”
― Kay Redfield Jamison, An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness
“I saw the world in black and white instead of the vibrant colours and shades I knew existed.”
― Katie McGarry, Pushing the Limits
“It’s so difficult to describe depression to someone who’s never been there, because it’s not sadness. I know sadness. Sadness is to cry and to feel. But it’s that cold absence of feeling— that really hollowed-out feeling.”
― J.K. Rowling
“The brief relief of seeing other people when I leave my room turns into a desperate need to be alone, and then being alone turns into a terrible fear that I will have no friends, I will be alone in this world and in my life. I will eventually be so crazy from this black wave, which seems to be taking over my head with increasing frequency, that one day I will just kill myself, not for any great, thoughtful existential reasons, but because I need immediate relief.”
― Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation
This morning I rose begrudgingly as usual. The usual routine. Kids ready. Drove to school. Youngest day’s off. Usually our special day. I’m tired. I have no energy. I have managed to tidy the house. Do the laundry. But my levels are low. Fortunately he is tired and I put him down for a nap.
I hear the sound of church bells. We don’t live near in church. In therapy once bells started, after six months this was a rare occasion, it rendered me into a disassociated state. Memories of my childhood came like a tidal wave. My brain couldn’t handle it. I lived near a church growing up. This hasn’t happened before, but presumably being therapy, being open, I am more vulnerable to such triggers. It had been a powerful therapy session.
Shaken, I searched the house for various laptops, iPads, iPods, etc, something that might have given that noise. I found nothing. Perhaps it wasn’t it my head (my worst fear) perhaps someone outside with a cell phone or something. Unease didn’t shift. Feelings of creeping anxiety and a sense of unease. Eventually I decided to take diazepam which I usually leave as a last resort. I took a few moments to calm myself and had planned to call my husband. He coincidentally called me at that exact moment. I told him the situation. He explained that our eldest daughter has a church bells notification thing on her iPod touch. I felt relieved that I recognised the sense of unease came from the noise, also that this noise had actually occurred.
I felt so tired. I looked at the news and saw that Mick Jaggers girlfriend has killed herself, L’Wren Scott. How awful. Yet I can understand, as with, Charlotte Dawson, those last few moments, when the despair is just so great, when you yearn for peace and can take no more. I hope they are at peace now.
I received an email from the select committee, the government is hearing submissions for funding into rape crisis centres. I, along with many others, not only pushed for funding, but said I wanted to appear personally to the committee, in the hope that a personal appeal would add greater volume than just a letter asking for money. I received an email today, confirming my attendance in April. I submitted back in September! I’m quite anxious now. But it’s a cause I believe in, so will pursue.
The girls’ principal called today as well. We have already locked horns. A 14 year old went onto school grounds during after school care and my 7 year old during a conversation lifted her skirt. A cleaner saw and intervened. I’m furious that a, there was no supervision, b, the cleaner told my daughter off, c, no one knows who the boy is, d, the boy has visited a few times and established a rapport with a daughter, which I had to ascertain as the teachers didn’t, and e, the principal feels my daughter should take some accountability. I had to initiate the meeting, I had to request they try to find out who the boy is and I had to recommend a trespass order against the boy, also to better manage their after school care as currently the numbers can be 30-40 children with two staff, one of which is really old man, and most of the time they don’t know where the children are and this is a user pays service. So we are going through the motions of a proper complaint. Unfortunately it means that we get a call every time the girls do anything slightly naughty.
– a threatened detention for picking paint flakes off of an old park bench
And today I got called because he doesn’t like where I park. Apparently it’s where the school bus stops, but I have never seen the bus. The principal thinks the others mothers will think I’ve been given special dispensation! It might be because I’ve asked the mothers a couple of times to use their indicators!
I held my own on the phone. He’s an idiot. It’s just a typical small town school with people with nothing better to do.
After the call I felt sad though. It wouldn’t usually bother me at all. Nothing usually bothers me. I’m feisty and can hold my own. But everything is crumbling.
My son woke up in a terrible foul mood. Crying and having tantrums – which is not like him at all. I suspect he might be over tired or coming down with something. Again, usually I can use the right method, be it cuddles, play, a drive, a walk, we are extremely close. But today it’s like I’m almost a new mother again. I feel alone, lost, how can I comfort my little boy when I, myself am such a mess.
My husband calls again and I tell him. I’m failing today. I don’t think I can do this. He knows I would rarely ask him to leave work unless it’s that bad. He makes some excuses and comes home.
He sets our son up on the couch. Our son is still grouchy. But I feel relief that I am not dealing with him alone.
My skin has flared up terribly, I had hives, now it’s eczema. I’ve never had skin problems before. The dr says it’s stress related. She gave me hydrocortisone cream. I feel like such a mess. My arms itch terribly, sometimes my arms and hands will bleed. And my face will be blotchy, but my skin has always been clear in the past. Although my husband has politely reminded me that not showering regularly probably doesn’t help 😉 I guess I have been pretty bad at taking care of myself of late.
Anyway, he is here now to do school run and manage this afternoon. The noise, mess and demands.
I have failed in all of my responsibilities.
I made a promise to my husband after a very real, and very painful suicide attempt for him, that I would never do that to him and our children again. I might be failing as a mother alive, but the damage I would do to them if I took my own life would be unforgivable. I made that promise a few years ago, and I owe it to my children. So I can only envy the people that are at peace and only hope to find my peace in the living world.