Fading

things have been piling up. I feel like I am time bomb that could go off at any time. I am so angry all the time. It got so bad today I was ready to kill myself. I was dreading coming to work. My anxiety began as I drove in. I sat down at my desk and within 15 minutes I had left. I was breaking. I couldn't be around anyone and I felt like I was going to fall apart. I fought tears my entire drive home. I wanted Kevin to come home, but I knew he had to work. The depression came crushing down hard. I hurt. I couldn't imagine facing another day like today. I had a blank stare while driving and imagined myself driving off an overpass or into a wall. It was a short thought, but none the less it terrified me. The drive seemed forever. Cut. that is all I wanted to do to stop the pain. I knew exactly where my blade was at home. I didn't want to just cut though. I wanted to slit my wrist. I couldn't do that to Kevin. He would worry and treat me as a fragile case. He would put off wanting to have kids if he knew I was feeling and thinking like this. I know it is temporary, but the thoughts are so strong. I can't tell anyone. Cheyenne will think the same thing that I shouldn't have kids yet. My therapist will think the same thing as well as my psychiatrist. It is not safe to tell anyone. If I do it just looks like I haven't gotten anywhere and look like I am incapable of motherhood. My truth is, is that I will always struggle with depression and battling thoughts to hurt myself. I am getting more control of it little by little. But at this point since I have been doing so well, it will screw everything up to tell that I wanted to die today.

 

I pulled into the garage. For a fleeting moment it was a desired plan to just shut the garage door and sleep peacefully. I can't. I really wish that I had no one that cared about me so it would make my decision a lot easier. I got in the house quickly and fought within myself to not cut. I wanted to get my razor so bad and just stab myself. I couldn't let Kevin know. Where would I cut? My arms were a definite no, so were my legs. My stomach and sides seemed like the best idea as far as being able to hide it. I wanted to bleed. I wanted it all to come out. I knew if I cut the pain would stop. I still hadn't heard from Kevin. I sat in my room. I was exhausted. I can't hurt myself. If I do it is hurting him. If it was just me, that would be a different story. Fear of a setback with him also instilled great fear in my mind.

 

I had no strength. I refused to cry. My eyes welled up, but I wouldn't let it win. If I took something I could just sleep. Thoughts of overdosing flashed through my head and how many letters I would have to write saying goodbye. I began to pray and pray and pray. There was nothing left to do. I had said a few prayers on my drive, but my prayers were now out of desperation. I began to calm some. I still didn't feel good, but the thoughts to hurt myself decreased immensely. I fell asleep. When I woke I felt a desire to paint. It took some motivation to get my ass up, but once I got going it was easy. It was a great distraction. I got lost in my work, and then it was done. I was actually satisfied with the outcome. I was anxious for Kevin to get home. Once he did I felt such a relief. I still can't tell him my thoughts. I can't tell anyone.