Thankful, Part 2

I mentioned at the end of my last post that I've been really struggling with the whole thankfulness thing this Thanksgiving. It feels strange to be saying that because I've put more effort than I ever have recently into gratitude and actually writing down what I'm grateful for. I used to get so angry at ppl that would tell me to look on the bright side or focus on the good or whatever. Now I really make a point to notice it, acknowledge it, and somehow give thanks for it (a spoken prayer, writing it down, etc.). But despite all of that, and the relative smoothness of the last few days, this holiday has been confusing.

I mentioned previously that it's my little nephew who was really the difference maker in preventing my suicide. I really do love that boy more than absolutely anything in the world, and would give anything for him. But because of how, and how much, I thought of him while in that suicidal place, I can't help but be reminded of it when I see him now.

It was just 3 months ago that I was being dragged into the hospital on a forced hold. It feels like a lot, but that's a short time in the big picture. For different reasons a few times lately I've found myself reading old blog posts, emails, messages, etc. from the really bad time. It is so strange to "hear" my own voice coming from such a desperate place.

I have a strange relationship with that desperate place now. I know it intimately. I spent a lot of time there. But when I read my own writing it is sometimes hard to believe the words are really my own. There is just such an intense desperation there. I remember feeling so "separate" from everyone else, and often like I couldn't speak because my words couldn't connect to others. I felt hollow, and alone in an indescribably intense way. It's a feeling I think one has to experience to truly know, but looking back now I can hear it so loudly through my words. Reading those words now is like feeling it again, while also being haunted by the fact that I was ever there.

Seeing my little boy, as well as others who love me, has the same effect. The place I'm staying now is where I came almost immediately after being out of the hospital. Last time I was here I was still in a very scary place. While I feel the good and the love that's here, it's impossible not to think about everything else that comes with it.

There are so so many emotions attached to the suicide thing. First, the fear. I hear people talk about how suicide is a selfish act, and how could a person do that to others in his life. But the thing is, by the time you've reached that place it's like you're being taken over by a different set of thoughts that are not your own. It is a complete loss of control. To save myself I was able to tell a friend (online) enough that she was able to call my therapist and get an emergency appointment. By the time I got there they were pretty well tipped off that they were going to need cops and ambulance and all that. It took that much to save me from myself. It's so scary to think that I literally nearly died. I'll be talking to someone now and think, "Wow, I wonder what their life would be like now had I died? How would this be different?" Trust me that is a really creepy thought to have! I get into these long trains of thought of wondering about my funeral, who would've been, how ppl would remember me, etc. It just feels scary and ugly inside.

That brings up another big emotion: guilt. On the one hand I know how out of control I was. But on the other it was still me and my actions. I feel horrible that I was so close to taking away someone that these people love. I struggle to comprehend the love at this point, and often have the "they'd be better off without me" thoughts, but for whatever reason they love me. And I know enough to know it would be wrong to take that away from them. Most people in my life don't know how close I was to death. I hope they never find out because I'd rather not have to explain myself that extensively, but how crazy is it to be talking to a friend about how school is going or random everyday trivial stuff when a part of me inside is screaming, "I almost died! I could be dead now! You don't even know and you think nothing happened but I almost died!" It's a constant dilemma of not wanting word to get out but feeling like i'm lying when someone asks what I've been doing lately and I say, "Well I've been pretty busy with school." It's the truth, and "Well I spend many hours in therapy after nearly killing myself" is not exactly the conversation starter I want, but it's hard to hold conversations that feel trivial.

So all these thoughts are swirling through my head all the time while I'm out here on my vacation. Every time I see my nephew...every time an old friend asks what I've been up to....etc. etc. Needless to say the crazy emotion thing i've been on for a while now is not letting up! On Thanksgiving day we went to a 5k walk/run. Right at the start of it the announcer said something about how we all have something to be thankful for. Just a quick little comment but it had me sobbing before I knew it. (The event later had me crying again because my feet hurt so bad I wasn't sure I was going to finish it...frustrating for this former runner who used to run 5k's often w/out a problem. Thankfully I was alone for most of this so I had time to process it). I've been having to take lots of breaks just so I can hide out and cry for a bit. Again I'm around people who are supportive, but I don't want to be asked to explain the emotions. I'm not ready for that yet.

One thing that has surprised me a lot is that I've been unable to say that I'm thankful I'm alive. I thought that was something I was feeling but it's not there yet. I can say with all honesty I'm relieved i'm not dead, but that's a far cry from thankful for being alive. I hadn't realized just how far apart those two ideas are. My life is hard right now. I know it will always have its challenges but right now it's a fight for every day. I'm glad for the chance to fight but it's surprisingly hard to celebrate. I guess I feel a little guilty that I'm not more thankful for my life. I was spared through caring friends who wouldn't let me get away with isolating, a little baby who had no idea he was saving me, and some dumb luck. I want to be grateful for a second chance but I'm not there yet. I have to admit I'm a bit scared that I'm not because the suicidal thoughts seem like a giant vortex, sucking in everything around it. I really really don't want to be sucked back there. I know this has to be a slow process, so I've gotta keep trusting what I'm being told and fighting to move farther from the vortex. I think I feel closer to the vortex though with all these ppl around and all the talk about being thankful.

Finally, this trip is showing me that things are hard right now. I really am thankful for what I have, but everything is a fight. I had to strategically plan my Thanksgiving dinner so I could leave before the drinks got too prevalent. I had to constantly be on guard in order to stay in control. This resulted in panic attacks a few times from just not knowing what to do. I haven't gone anywhere without a bag full of distractions...books and such..just in case I need to step away and "take a nap" to catch my breath. I think my friends here think I take lots of naps...or maybe they know I'm not really sleeping. I'm sure I came off as rude at least a few times, but I can't handle the social thing all that well now. It takes soooo much energy to go through this level of planning for every day. Plus I'm so on guard so much of the time I don't get the full enjoyment out of things. I barely remember what I ate for Thanksgiving dinner (and I actually ate very, very little) because I was too busy worrying about the drinks. After I left I realized I'd never stopped shaking the whole time I was there. I'm not sure I had been breathing either cus I felt pretty dizzy. Most of my energy had gone to fighting the little monster inside that would do anything for a drink. I'm doing my best to believe that this level of pre-planning, struggling, fear, etc. is temporary. I think it is, and I think it's ok for now because I think I'm doing the right things. I've struggled in the past but I think this time I'm building the right foundation so eventually it will be solid underneath me and I'll be able to do things with less fear. I sure hope so!

For now, all the feelings, emotions, and experiences are double-edged. But according to my dbt class that's a lot of how life is. Nothing fits in the black and white the way we want it to. For now I'm just practicing staying calm in the midst of it all. Frankly, I'm doing a pretty damn good job of it. So maybe that's what I'm thankful for. :)