i usually don't post two days in a row. i was up half the night going over and over today in my head. it was a god damn wic appointment. i've been to about seven of them and they're always the same. i've driven to silverdale countless times. why did i stay up go over every word of the conversation i assumed i was going to have? why did i retrace the route in my head? why did i was up at three am and toss and turn for an hour before giving up on sleep. it got me thinking. the whole drive there i wondered why i was so anxious. and then the neurosis took over. i went over every detail of my life over the last five years. why am i so afraid of social interaction. why does the act of ordering a pizza or making a doctors appointment over the phone give me the overwhelming sense of dread in my stomach? when did it get like this? why am i so afraid? then i started to reevaluate every choice i've made to get me to where i am today.
i think the breaking point was my eighteenth birthday. until that day i got good grades. i didn't ditch school. i had more than two friends. i could look people in the eye. i wasn't so terrified of the unknown.
i snapped.
two of the most important people in my life shut me out. on my birthday. i've never gotten over it. i stayed in bed for a week. i couldn't look my boyfriend in the eye without crying. it was the worst break-up (of any relationship) that i had ever been through. it took a domino effect on my entire social life. countless 'friends' shunned me. i heard the whispering. i saw the dirty looks. they ignored me. judged me. i don't think i talk to more three people on a regular basis my entire senior year. i only graduated because i had the grades from three previous years of hard work and extra classes. i was setting myself up for a easy senior year. a year where i didn't have to worry about homework or exams and i could spend time having fun. never happened.
then i completely shut down.
after my last suicide attempt (that left my strapped to the bed in the psych ward of harrison hospital) i was not the same person. i fell deeper into depression. my anxiety levels went through the roof. i refused to take the prozac, instead choosing to self-medicate with whatever pain pills i could get my hands on. i think the only reason i held onto my high school job for almost three years was because i was basically alone the whole day what with no customers. how could i let two people damage me so bad.
and then i started wondering what if.
what if my birthday had gone over smoothly. what if i was actually in the presence of true friends. would i have gone to a university? certainly had the grades for it up until that point. would i have considered therapy instead of cutting everyone except nick and sierra out? maybe.
and then i wondered how i let it get this bad. how had i let this happen? i've become so terrified of the unfamiliar i don't even like go out in public half the time. i stay at home and i play with my son. thank god nick makes enough money i don't need to work. but i do want to. i want to be able to talk to people wthout looking away every five seconds. or tripping over words. i want to provide and make a difference. even part time. i'd love to go back to school if it wasn't olympic college and full of people who cut me out of their lives at south. but i can't do it. i've developed a comfortable life, routine and safe relationships with the few people i trust.
i've run from everything i have ever encountered that pushed me out of my comfort zone. no wonder i fantasize about running away to alaska or canada and hiding out in a cabin for the rest of my life. and then i made a shocking revelation.
(and just so we're clear, i love my family. my boyfriend, my son, my dog, our home. it's me i'm having an issue with. as always.)
i've chosen to live the only life i've ever been comfortable with. the only life i've ever known: my mother's. i've set myself up to be a stay-at-home mom. is this coincidence? did i purposely trap myself in this existence to save myself having to face any challenges or be around other people? maybe it was subconscious. or do i remember telling nick in my vicodin haze what a beautiful baby we could have? am i that afraid to be successful or open up to other people? must be.
i understand the decisions i've made put me where i am today, but i can't help but feeling that maybe my life would be completely different if i had chosen better friends to surround myself with. maybe nick would have proposed. maybe i would have went to school and waited to have children?
i still think about suicide at least ten times a day. when i'm driving i envision pulling into oncoming traffic. i imagine slitting my wrists in the shower. when i'm cooking i think about pulling a sylvia plath. i read crime novels or watch dramas and when terrible, awful things happen to people i often wish it were me. why am i so compelled to think about death? is it bad genes? have i been wired wrong? am i just sick? i've written out a will, wrote my own obituary. thought about how much better everything would be if i could just start over. i'm so fucked up.
but i am a good mother. i have not inflicted damage to myself since i found out i was pregnant. i do not drink, take pain pills. i stopped rationalizing my suicide plans. andrew would not be better off without me. i know nick would do a wonderful job. but i would never want to hurt either of them (or my family +sierra) like that. it's just not worth it. but it doesn't stop the visions. or the nightmares.
i don't believe in destiny. or fate. you make decisions hoping for the best and some times people make decisions without considering the astronomical affect they'll have on other people. life is a series of decisions. they're neither right or wrong. they just are. i have to live with the choices i've made and learn from the lessons and experiences i've endured and hopefully writing this and getting it all out will help the healing. and calm my nerves. and ease my anxiety.
time will only tell.
