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ghoulangerlee · 6 years

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this is a pretty heavy post like, feel free to ignore it bc im just. in a really bad place right now and i need to vent and say things other than ‘im so tired’ because it doesn’t accurately encompass how i actually feel

So, like. 2012? Sometime after my mom died I got into a really bad place mentally, with everything piling up; my shit life, my shit aunt, my shit roommate, just shit after shit, my money kept going to bills, i didnt eat for weeks at a time.

I was in a really bad place. Like, horrifically bad. Only made worse by my aunt taking me to the hospital and telling the doctors there I was suicidal. To be fair, I was, but being locked in, what’s essentially a cell with a wooden bed? Not Fun.

I tried getting better, I went to a therapist and a psychiatrist, got on medicine. talk about my problems, tried moving on.

it didnt work. i felt a sense of uselessness around that time. i was 20 and my mom died less than a year ago.

i’d been nursing my bad health since i was a kid, and when mom’s diagnosis came when i was 17...it was a lot to handle. and as time went on, my aunt got more distant until it was me, a barely old enough fresh high school graduate, trying to juggle college, full time work and taking care of my sick (and dying) mom.

two years is a lot of time to have that much pressure put on you. and it does a lot to a person’s psyche when you go from being On at all times, to suddenly, you’re sitting in a hospice, telling your mom it’s okay to rest now. you’ll be fine.

you start feeling useless, i guess. you just. don’t know what to do anymore. your mom’s gone, you’re out of work for a week to “mourn” but really. you spend the week staring at the wall wondering what you could have done better.

(the spoiler is, nothing. nothing. death is fucked up. mom knew. the whole time she was going through the stages, making herself okay with the idea of dying. im glad she’s resting now. the last few years of her life were hard. too hard for one woman to handle.)

some could say that my anger and depression and sadness and just emptiness came from grief, maybe. maybe im still not over it. (spoiler: im not).

i remember, my aunt calling me the day my roommate was in the hospital, i was with her, sitting with her. and i’d called my manager to let him know that i was on my way to work, i shouldn’t be late but if traffic gets bad, then i might be late.

my aunt calls, yells at me, calls me a lot of names to the point im sobbing in my roommates hospital room. not an uncommon occurrence at that point. my aunt making me cry. i was 20 and my aunt had been doing that for about 10 years at that point.

my roommate takes the phone, says something i can’t remember to her and hangs up. and then she calls a nurse who takes me aside, sits me down in a room and asks me if i need to leave. if my aunt’s abusing me or hurting me.

it was a long day at the hospital. and then, later on that night, as im about to take myself to the local hospital to find out what i need in order to see a therapist, my aunt hijacks my plans and drags me there herself. takes me to the ER, tells them she’s worried about her niece’s who’s suicidal.

and anyway. to make a long story short. i spend a lot of time in this tiny box of a room, with no shoes or pants or shirt. in my underwear and a gown, sitting on a wooden frame bed with no blanket.

when i finally get my aunt out of the room, and i talk to the psych lady who came down from the ward, she asks me if i need to leave my aunt, asks if my aunt’s hurt me or hit me.

at the time, i didnt realize that abuse in the context she was asking also meant verbal, mental and emotional. i didnt realize that’s what my aunt was doing until way later.

the more i talked to a therapist later on, the more i realized that things were messed up. that my aunt’s treatment of me wasn’t right. that my aunt, as a whole, is abusive.

i was 20 when i tried to commit suicide.

i dont talk about it ever, because it was a point in my life i’ve been trying hard to forget.

i was just. so wrung out. my roommate left me with a 300 dollar power bill despite “promising” to pay her share. my landlord kept bothering me about rent even though i’d always remind her when i’d get paid, my aunt wouldn’t stop. and i just felt alone.

so fucking alone. i was empty and hollow and my house and life were a fucking mess.

at that point, i’d been trying to think of a way that seemed natural i guess. just. something that no one would realize i’d done it on purpose.

i didn’t have any money for food, so starving myself seemed like the best option. and so, i didnt eat. for days and then weeks and then months.

my dumb brain just, thought that, well, ive already got bad stomach problems. my stomach already bleeds. if i don’t eat then the acid just gets worse, it’ll make me bleed.

didn’t count on passing out during work and being rushed to the ER.

i lied then and said it was because i didn’t have the money to eat. and so afterwards, my manager and coworkers made sure i ate something.

but i mean, it wasn’t a glamorous experience. until today, i hadn’t told anyone that me not eating for those months was actually me trying to sabotage my own life.

but yeah.

what all this is leading up to is. i feel myself slipping back into that mindset. only this time, i can’t get out of it. i don’t have a therapist, or medication to help. my aunt is on my ass constantly and won’t let me get a job without threatening me homelessness.

and its tearing me up on the inside. ive been in so much physical pain these past few days. everyday its hard to get out of bed and find the will to do anything.

we had an argument the other day, because i finally couldn’t handle her yelling. i told her how i felt about her and she told me to leave the room. so i went outside. and. fuck. i kept mapping out the quickest way to get to the busy street where all the cars were. if i could just get out there without her seeing then i could just...

when i keep saying im tired, i mean it as, this bone deep i can’t take it anymore tired. the i need to get out of here before something happens to me tired. the i am at the end of my line and if something doesn’t change soon im going to die tired.

im trying so hard to stay okay. to keep all this in and not bombard people with it. hatching plans and trying to figure out how to get the money to leave. where to go when i do leave.

but god its so hard. im just so tired.

and i dont know what to do.

my aunt “paid” me for the last transport and i got 75 dollars. two days of nonstop driving and caring for 16 dogs. 75 dollars. that’s for groceries and my phone bill. and absolutely nothing for savings.

fuck.

#suicide mention #tagging it as that just in case #personal #vent

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