Today was a headfuck, from start to finish. On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being bearable and 10 being an unbelievable pain in my face, today was a 12. There was a trigger, of course, well actually there was a combination of triggers, but no more than the last time I found myself in a similar frame of mind, the trigger is way less significant than my response.
Once more, I lost it. I managed to get myself away from the situation that caused the problem with my dignity reasonably intact, I think, but once I got home there was no keeping it together. I contacted a couple of people that I felt might be able to keep me going off the deep end (Hubby and the kids were out) and one of them came running, literally, through sideways rain, to help. She was met with a spectacular ugly cry and I’m not sure I was coherent, but she let me talk/blub and stayed with me till I calmed down somewhat.
After she left I took myself off out for a walk, and that was when the really scary ‘how can I make it so I’m not here anymore’ thoughts started creeping back in. It wasn’t pretty, and this time involved a public ugly cry but at least I had no witnesses.
I got home around the same time as Hubby and co, and the other friend I had contacted this morning got in touch to see if I was ok. I called up to her, and she had to contend with the biggest bucket of crazy I’ve ever thrown at anyone who isn’t Hubby or a mental health professional. My head hurt from crying. But, no more than earlier, she just sat with me and let me get it out of my system.
I’m incredibly grateful for the understanding I was met with today – from the friend I literally walked out on mid sentence with virtually no explanation, to the other two who didn’t freak out in the face of my snot fest but just provided hugs and listening ears. I am shattered, beyond belief. My brain hurts, and I’m more emotionally drained than I thought possible, which is quite an achievement considering the last few years. The triggers are still there, and not going anywhere. I’m likely going to have to contend with it again and again and again. While any thoughts of suicide were specific to the moment, what scares me is how quickly they appeared, and how ready I was to think it through as a valid option. I’m reassured though by the fact that despite how utterly desperate I felt, I didn’t go any further than thinking about it.
I know I’m not alone, I know I have people I can rely on. But I’m not sure that it’s fair to expect them to cope with such extremes, or of those responsible for my care to leave me in this situation. I am so, so tired. I’m running out of fight. I’m doing my absolute level best, but I’m not sure it’s enough. Yet my options are………………..?