I remember the first time I really wanted to die. I was eight or nine, maybe as young as seven. It was the first time I can remember psychache. I can recall laying on the bed, praying for god to come and take me because it hurt so bad just to be alive. The sun was shining in the window and I can almost feel it warming me now. The pain of psychache never really leaves you. Its not like physical pain, that you forget over time and the memories weaken. Phsychic pain takes a little piece of your soul end echoes there, its burns a path through your mind and leaves a scar. Conversely I remember the first time I decided to commit suicide, around the same period in my life. It seemed like such a good idea, a solution for all my pain. I was glowing with happiness to go and be with God. I tried to drown myself in the bathtub,but I just couldn’t let that breath go. I tried and tried but I just couldn’t breathe in the water. I felt like a failure.
I’m glad I didnt succeed, I am enjoying life right now. I’m struggling to put all the pieces back together, but its a good struggle. I have a big whiteboard on the living room wall with a list of things to try to do everyday, brush teeth, shower, do laundry, cook breakfast. Daily things I have gotten out of the routine of doing. I enjoy checking off my list, I find joy in life again, and I would have missed out on it.
I have a lot of stressful things going on but I am pulling through. That disability hearing is coming up, terrifies me. Deployment has been long and hard, almost halfway through. Parenting, life in general, all difficult but I’m pulling through, I’ll get through this.