The silence is killing you. You’re alone in this process, this change, this new leap. Relying solely on yourself? Man that’s hard, and you’re scared that you’re going to fuck up. Or, that you’re fucking already. Tension lead to doubt. Doubt turned into fear. Now you’re facing risk head on with no armor or safety barrier. You’re scared shitless. You’ve done this before, but on a much smaller scale and your faith is slow diminishing. But while you spin your decisions, as you dwell on what’s next, know that you are being routed for. Know that you are loved.
Happy. Sad. Irritable. Your body and mind can’t seem to decide on what it feels. You hope they make a decision. You secretly pray it’s not the last two options, but you kind of welcome them anyways. You’re not quite sure what to do with happy. You can’t help the mood swings, or wanting to lay in bed. Laying in bed is where you feel the most comfortable. It’s a calmative yet so detrimental to your progress. You don’t have to explain this. Even if you did, so few would want to understand, but I understand, and it’ll be okay. Keep trying to make the choice of happy and understand that you are loved.
You’re overwhelmed. Not “what do I wear” overwhelmed. Not “I have too many things going on right now” overwhelmed. No, I mean the “I can’t breathe right now” overwhelmed. The “make it stop” overwhelmed. The “I’m not sure why I’m here” overwhelmed. It’s consuming. It’s a beast that is damn near eating you alive and you’re too exhausted to pry your way out of the jaws on danger. Clarification: You are not only the damsel in distress. You’re also the beast and the danger. It’s not intentional, we both know this, but it’s happening and you want out. But while you’re contemplating giving in, or contemplating fighting for your life, know that you are loved. So very loved.
“You’re in therapy?” “You take happy pills?” – You try to ignore such questions. But who are you kidding? You can’t make those go away. Because you were taught therapy was for crazy people. And medication? Those are for the certified insane. You feel broken. You feel artificial. You want to be normal… whatever normal is. And you want it now. But you’re not crazy, and you’re not certified insane. You’re someone that chose you. You’re someone who made the decision to save themselves. And with every step of the way, with every new process you embark on, hold on tightly to the belief that someone out here is holding your hand. Believe that you are loved.
It’s 11:45 PM and you’re drowning in your tears. You muffle your light sobs with your comforter and pillow, all in hopes that no one will hear you. The object of the evening is to lay still and disappear, but that itself is still a painful and a knowingly unattainable goal. You allow the tears to gather and fall because you need something to soothe the ache. You allow the tears to form and sit because maybe, just maybe, once they’re released, the battering that’s going on internally will too disappear. You can’t seem to alleviate the twinges of pain, the erratic thoughts, and this strong desire to disappear, but for whatever it counts, wherever you are, whenever you read this, know that you are loved.
You want out. You want more than out. You want instant gratification that comes in the form of a blade, an Advil bottle, some sort of a last breath. You think you’re simply giving up on life, but instead you’re giving up on yourself. You secretly know this but… mental exhaustion and validation. But before you devise a plan, before you write that goodbye note, understand that you are capable, you are a fighter, and you are so very very loved.
I don’t know who you are, or if we will ever meet, but something told me you needed this. Something told me to remind you that you are everything and more. That you are the Moon and the Sun. That you come with a special sparkle, coated in authenticity and the right to happiness. You can’t feel it right now, but somewhere deep inside, the will to make the choice of happiness, to go from just coping to owning it. Something told me to tell you to look for it, just for a little. I hope it’s not too late, and I know it’s not much, but I guarantee you these are more than just words. You are loved, so very loved, and if someone has neglected to tell you this, if someone has neglected to show you this, let this note be that and a tad bit more.
September is National Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. It starts with a conversation. Take a stand with NAMI and tweet #IAmStigmaFree