The Anger and Pain Again

It’s agony wanting so badly to kill myself, but being unable to because I don’t want to hurt a few key people in my life. I hate that I care. I wish I didn’t. I wish I could just do it and get it over with. And why the fuck do I care how it might impact upon my current therapist and the OT’s at the clinic? What even makes me sure they might be negatively impacted for even a minute? I don’t think they really care anyway. They see so many people, they can’t care about them all. Especially not those annoying, over-bearing types like me. That’s reserved for the good clients. The only person I feel cares is A. Well, she did anyway. I’m trying to hold onto the thought that she still does. Don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow, but I already know I will end up there anyway, because I’m so damn predictable. I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to see anyone.

I’m angry with the world. I want to burn it all down. I hate humanity. I’m not good with people anyway. I thought I had become better with them through the past few years, but apparently not. When I can’t even understand what a person is saying and end up saying stupid things that don’t even make sense. When I misread the simplest of things and can’t even concentrate on something someone is saying because I’m trying to maintain eye contact (which comes hand in hand with anxiety) to show that I’m present and attentive. Multitasking? It’s a myth. People rope you in, then once they’ve got you, rip you apart.

I’m angry with the god I don’t think I believe in anymore. He didn’t even help a child that needed him because her parents couldn’t be there for her the way she needed. So why would he help an adult who’s supposed to be more capable? I was brought up in a Christian family, so I knew how to pray. But according to some Christians, I obviously didn’t pray the right way, or didn’t have enough faith. The smallest little thing I prayed for, for him to send someone into my room one night to just hold me. I just wanted to be held and feel loved, but apparently that was too much to ask for. So the next person who thinks about sending me an email telling me to just give everything over to God and my life will be better, please, don’t bother. I’ve been down that road and it just caused even more confusion, guilt, shame, and pain.

Most of all, I’m angry with myself. For being the way I am. For feeling the way I am. For being a brat. Life’s not fair. No shit. It doesn’t owe me anything. And on that note, I don’t owe it anything either.

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Safe Haven

These past two weeks have been a nightmare.

Elizabeth and I broke up last week Monday. I want to write about it sometime soon, as I feel I’m still processing this. I don’t want to get into it right now.

On Friday afternoon I hit a crisis point. I had been dealing with suicidal ideation since even before the breakup, but it came and went. It wasn’t until afterward that it started to become a permanent fixture in my mind. My current living and work situation, and a few other things as well, were leading me down a very dark road.

I went to a job interview on Thursday. The first interview I was actually looking forward to, as the job seemed perfect for me. Even though I was feeling like shit, I managed to compartmentalize and focus on the interview. I felt it went well from my side. I was supposed to hear back from my agent by the end of the working day, but I didn’t. On Friday morning when I hadn’t had any feedback, I emailed my agent and asked her whether she had heard anything. I was positive. So positive. Later that morning I received her reply that I didn’t get the job.

That was the last straw. I was in the office with the dad and stepmom, and I had about an hour or so (can’t remember) before it was time to go home. I had a “meeting” with my ex business partner (we still meet up to chat and help one another with our individual businesses) directly after work, so I went to meet up with her.

She could see I was in a bad space. I broke down right then and there in the restaurant. Usually I’m able to keep my composure in public, but not this time. To cut a long story short, I ended up admitting myself into the clinic that day.

I’m still here and I’m glad I made the decision to come in that day. As I mentioned before, Saturday evening’s are usually my worst days. Since I’ve been struggling a lot with suicidal ideation and had my plan in place, I knew the weekend was going to be a hard one. If I hadn’t been in here I don’t know if I would have gotten through the weekend. I’m still not completely over the suicidal ideation, but I’m very slowly starting to regain a sense of distant hope and the will to live.

The Ghost of Saturday Evenings

For some reason, it’s very hard for me to be alone on a Saturday evening. I’ve noticed that this is when I struggle the most with intense feelings, suicidal thoughts, and self-harm urges. It’s also when I most want to be alone and am prone to push people away. The loneliness is overwhelming, yet at the same time, I just want to be alone. It doesn’t make sense.

I’ve noticed this pattern for a while now, and tried to figure out how far back this goes. It goes far. Way back.

What is it about a Saturday evening that stirs all these things up? I wish I knew the answer to this question. All I know is that the emotions come from a very deep, far away place and time.

Why Stay?

I’m a burden. An inconvenience for the most part.

I annoy people.

The world doesn’t need me.

These are the words running through my mind right now. Some days I don’t even know why I’m still here. What am I doing here? Maybe at first a few people will be sad that I’m gone, but in time they’ll forget about me, and I’ll only be a passing thought. One of those annoying thoughts that pop up from time to time, and which is only an inconvenience.

What am I still doing here? I don’t know. Does there have to be a purpose to this life? Some believe there is. I don’t. I haven’t found a purpose for me to be here. Help one person here and there like I always thought I’d do? But what’s the point?

I’m one person in an ocean of people. Barely noticeable. Not important. The world is already full. One less person won’t be missed, but will help alleviate the stress of the earth.

So why stay?


NOTE: This is the way I’m currently feeling, but I won’t act on any urges. I’m fully aware, even with these thoughts raging, that suicide will only hurt certain people I love. And I love them enough to not want to cause them even one day of pain. This keeps me alive.

Death Wish

I didn’t spot you there in the shadows
Until it was too late
You’ve descended upon me once again
And I’m left wondering…
Where did you come from?
Why are you here?

Your presence is uninvited
But you don’t care, do you?
You just want to make yourself heard
No matter the agony you cause inside
Throwing as much darkness at me
As you can.

You’re my death wish.

Suicidal ideation has overtaken me once again. Driving to a business meeting earlier today, I suddenly thought of Jasmine and felt an ache in my heart. I miss her. So fucking much. I don’t know what’s more powerful… The anger I feel towards her, or the hurt.

As “luck” would have it, once I had settled into my seat at the coffee shop, my business partner told me that she had met up with Jasmine for breakfast over the weekend (they’re friends), and proceeded to tell me about it. I felt the tears come, and I tried my hardest to hold them back. But it didn’t work. I managed to stop pretty quickly at least. She’s one of those people who are uncomfortable around emotions.

It’s not just this whole thing with Jasmine. It’s work. It’s my financial and living situation. Life is exhausting.

I know I can talk to Elizabeth, but I don’t want to bother her. She has a lot on her mind at the moment what with work and studies, and I don’t want to add any more stress to her life. This is my problem, I need to deal with it alone. And one way I’m doing this is by writing here. I hope it’s enough.

The Cliff

I didn’t want to write on my blog ever again. But here I am. Don’t have the energy to write much. Will write more about what’s been going on at another time. Just need to get this out of my head.

Standing on a high cliff. I had climbed up that cliff with the help of a ladder. Once I reached the top, the ladder fell away, leaving me stranded. It’s a narrow ledge that I’m standing on, and it’s a steep drop from every angle. If I move an inch, I’ll fall. I’m stuck. So I just stand there, trying not to move. But maybe I should.

Excitement, And The Power Of A Hug

I was just going to write about something really great that happened on Monday, but there’s something else that happened last night that I want to share as well. So this post might also be a long one.

After a year and four months, it’s finally happening. I’m going to see my mom and little sisters again!

My mom sent me a text on Monday morning, saying “I wonder when I’m going to see Rayne again”, with a GIF of a monkey scratching his head. That was really cute and funny. I showed it to my step-mom as well. I often share these kinds of things with them and vice versa. I sent that same GIF back to her saying “I’m wondering the same thing.” A few hours later I was surprised with a flight ticket and rental car! My dad, with nudging from my step-mom (whose idea it was- bless her heart), decided to use their reward points to get me that ticket. They had so many points that they didn’t have a pay a cent for it. That’s pretty cool. I was so happy, and the gratitude I felt, almost made me burst into tears. I also felt this great sense of relief. I’m just not sure what the relief is about.

It’s my mom’s birthday today, and she hates her birthday. My flight is for next week Wednesday. I wanted to tell her on Monday already, but thought today would be a better time to do it. So I video called her this morning, and told her that I have a special gift for her this year. My youngest little sister was with my mom at the time, so she was also in on the call. When I told them that I’m coming next week, they both started screaming. Seeing their faces, oh my heart. I’ll never forget that moment.

And guess what? I’m also going to see my therapist in person again! I can’t wait! Although I’m also a little nervous for some reason.

I went to group last night, and really enjoyed it. D was leading it. Before group, while we were in the coffee shop, one of the guys came around to the table I was sitting at with some of the girls. He kissed one of them on the cheek, and attempted to do the same with me. I told him “no” and pulled my face away. He laughed and tried again, but not coming too close this time. Like in a playful manner. But I stuck to my boundaries and didn’t give in, like I would have in the past. Too afraid of offending the person. One of the girls told him that I don’t like it when guys touch me. I was surprised when she said that, because I didn’t know that she “got it”. I told him I’d give him a hug instead. Afterward he said “but you touched me” and I told him that it’s because I initiated it, and therefore I was more comfortable with it.

I’m becoming more comfortable with talking and sharing during the group. That’s progress. This group is so good and valuable for me. After I was done talking and sharing last night, my inner critic showed up. I didn’t quite articulate myself very well. I stumbled a little over my thoughts and words, but not in a very obvious way. Some things came out in ways that I didn’t intend, and were incomplete. But I told that critic to shut up. The important thing is that I’m trying. This is all new to me, so of course I’m going to struggle a bit at first. It’s like a baby taking her first steps. She’s going to be awkward at first. She’s going to struggle and stumble. But she doesn’t give up, she keeps getting back up and trying again. Eventually she’s walking with ease. I’ll get there too.

We were talking about values yesterday, which is part of Interpersonal Effectiveness in DBT. We did a fun activity. But at some point during that activity I started feeling this depression sink in. When the activity was over and we started going through the skill, I started to feel worse. I still struggle with values. With knowing who I want to be. Who I really am. And the shame that had died down a little since Monday, hit me full force again. Suddenly everyone and everything around me started to feel unreal. And then the suicidal thoughts kicked in. I felt like nothing matters. What’s the point of life? Then the thought (judgement) that “there’s no reason for me to be feeling the way I am right now. Good things are happening. I have things to look forward to. I’m not supposed to be feeling depressed and suicidal. What the hell is wrong with me?” There were a few times that I felt tears well up, but tried to focus on what was going on in the group. There was a point when I couldn’t hold back that much, but I just hid my face and pretended to be looking at the worksheet I had in front of me. I may be more comfortable with talking and sharing, but I’m not at the point yet where I’m comfortable showing my emotions in front of more than one person.

I’m still going to be able to attend group next week, but will miss the next one, which is the last one for two weeks. D didn’t know whether she was going to be doing the group next week, or one of the other OT’s. So after group I asked her whether I could give her a hug in case I don’t see her for the next month or possibly longer. What started as a hug from me to her, a thank you for all she does and for the group last night, turned into her giving me a precious gift. And she doesn’t even know it.

I hugged her, and as I was starting to pull away, she held onto me and hugged me even tighter. I always pull away pretty quickly, and when I let go the other person also does. But she didn’t. And I’m so grateful, because it was what I needed. It felt warm, caring, and comforting. My whole body relaxed, and my mind just went quiet. I felt a deeper level of trust toward her, and sense of safety. It’s the quickest that suicidal and hopeless thoughts went away. It usually lasts at least a few hours, days, and sometimes even weeks. And it’s still gone.

On my way home, I cried all the way. I felt connected to the younger versions of myself. I experienced the pain of not having had the love and comfort I so desperately wanted and needed all those years. At how one deep hug could have such a big effect on me.

I feel like writing her an email and telling her about this, but not sure if I should. What do you guys think?

I wrote this in my personal journal last week, without intending to share it with anyone. But now it just feels right to do it. Strange how things work sometimes.

Letter To No One And Everyone

I need you to dig, to find those parts of me that even I can’t find.
I need you to help me see if there’s treasure hidden somewhere inside me.

Please sit beside me. Not a world away. Distance plays tricks on my mind.
Please see inside me. I can’t see me. But maybe you can.
Please hold my hand. Don’t pull away even when I initially try to.
Please hold me. If I try to pull away, don’t let go. Hold onto me.
Please be gentle with me. I’m tough, but also very fragile.

Can you feel the pain behind these words?
Can you see the tears that are falling as I’m writing this?
Can you hear my silent screams for comfort?

You may touch my heart.
But how can I trust that when I can’t feel the warmth of your touch?

That gentle touch that unlocks the door to my soul.
That healing touch that fills me with the strength I need to fight another day. That touch I ache for.
That can help break the bonds of harm that were created a long time ago.

A touch that heals, not destroys.
A dream… Unrealistic.
A voice deep inside whispers, “you don’t deserve it”.

D made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I do deserve it.

That’s the power of a hug.