I have a guest post for Suicide prevention week, from one of my favorite people, Meghan from Finders seekers.
She is brave to share this. Here is her story and why she keeps fighting.
Red Water Colors
Tonight I’m going to open doors that have been closed for years; not just shut. Chained, barred and boarded over. Piles of memories blocking them to not be opened again. I peek into the keyhole every once and awhile only to be startled by the darkness.
I’m going to talk about my battle with depression, cutting and suicidal thoughts….
My ears are ringing, hands are clammy and my throat feels like sandpaper.
Clinical Depression is something that even with the most amazing upbringing or awesome things you have going on; even if you have a kick ass support system it doesn’t matter!
It’s a void, a black hole sucking all the good out of your life. You can’t get out of your own way, you’re stuck in this moment that is suffocating you.
Well, that’s how it felt for me…
The lights are off the spiral staircase goes on for miles, you climb and climb, until you can’t feel your legs attempting to reach the light. The moment you get close enough to touch it the stairs become slick and you’re sliding backward. Trying to desperately cling to the railing and not lose your footing.
That’s how I’ve felt a lot in my lifetime. When I was a teenager I was overwhelmed with life. I never really felt like I fit in, I was always trying to find happiness in my latest boyfriend, trying to feel worthy of something. Everyone I loved seemed to leave, whether by tragic accident or suicide. People I thought I’d have in my life forever always seemed to leave. School was overwhelming and I felt dumb all the time. I wanted to fit in, I wanted to be worthy of someone. I wanted control when everything was spinning out of control.
My focus, my control, was cutting.
In the beginning I cut as a distraction, the pain brought me back to reality and the high I got from it helped me get through. I used a tack or sewing needle. I cut where no one could see. It was just for me, my release.
After awhile it wasn’t enough, the pain wasn’t enough and the high faded away. I started cutting deeper, in more sensitive areas, places where my clothes rubbed so there was always a tinge of pain. When I was at my worst I cut deep hoping that today was the day where it would end. I didn’t care, I couldn’t cope, I was cycling so fast and so out of control that nothing mattered in that moment. I took a knife to my left wrist in the shower and cut up. Watching the blood seep from my body, like watercolors running down my hand….
I cut deep, but not deep enough.
I’d love to say that I’m all better and I don’t struggle anymore, but that would be a BIG fat lie.
I don’t cut anymore, but I still cycle.
I still struggle with depression and the darkness.
I have watched families and friends who have lost someone to suicide.
I know the grief of losing someone you love to suicide.
I have moments of seeing my death at my own hands still, but I can’t follow through because I don’t want my boys to feel that they weren’t enough. They are my reason for suckling it up and powering through my darkness. They keep me here even when there are days where I feel like they’d be better off without me.
This is my story, my truth and no one else’s.
I speak for me and I’m sharing to let others know they aren’t alone.
I have my boys, my husband, family and friends who I know love me, but there are days where none of it seems to matter….
I talk about my life because it helps to keep me in check.
Note from the Author.
Hi all it’s Meghan. *trigger warning – cutting and suicide* I posted a blog last night “Today I Died” Reading it gave me the courage to open a door that I have long buried in the attic of my mind, a door that I only peep through the key hole occasionally. So I wrote, while trapped in the emotion of the topic of the blog. I wrote and shared what I furiously typed with my friend over at Hardlybored. Today I got a guest appearance over on her page. The piece I wrote, “Red Water Color” written to talk about a hard topic. Suicide… Whether you have lost a loved one, attempted yourself or have had thoughts of ending it all. THIS IS HARD TO TALK ABOUT! I have found my North Star, my navigation when the darkness sets in, my boys. How can I give up when I see their daily struggles; their courage to brave each new day. Their moxie, ability to adapt, overcome and never give up attitude are what keep me going. I cheer them on, I tell them never to give up. So how can I?!
Thank you for sharing your story! I hope just one person sees it and is inspired to continue for even one more day.