It feels like we are struggling, T and me. Me, with being completely frank and honest with what’s going on and T with not pulling the trigger on having me hospitalized again. I told him straight up that I won’t go back there again. I’d rather lie and say everything is okay than end up in that place once more. I don’t need to be treated like a prisoner after everything else that’s gone on in my life. T understands but he also has responsibilities and will do whatever he can do to keep me alive. And while I understand it, there is something about it that absolutely terrifies me.

I have an urgent need to be understood. No, that’s not right, I have an urgent need to understand. I need to understand why and how this could have happened to me. I have an urgent need to feel safe. I need to know the words I share with T are safe. I don’t want panic. I can’t deal with the panic. I only want to talk about these things without feeling like something that is out of my control is about to happen. Because that’s what it feels like all the time. That something bad is going to happen every time I open my mouth.

T said we’re both smart. Some days I’m afraid that my smartness is going to get the better of me. We need to have an understanding. We need to understand this fear. I’m still not sure so much of the time and the fear takes over.

We talked about my plan and T talked about making a living plan. In other words, he wants me to do the complete opposite of what everything inside of me is screaming at me to do. I don’t know what that means. When I’m not thinking of dying it doesn’t mean that I’m thinking of living. When I’m not thinking of dying it’s like there’s this nothingness. It’s almost as though living doesn’t even show up on the radar. Most of the time it doesn’t feel like we’re living now. It’s more like we’re just making it through, day by day, night by night. It’s hard existing this way. It’s not a comfortable way to be. So, when T says how about let’s make a living plan, we aren’t even sure what that means, what that would look like.

We talked about my plan last Friday but I didn’t tell him everything. I couldn’t. Because I was afraid. But if we don’t talk about it, how are we going to make sense of it? So yesterday, I told him everything. He promised that as long as we talk and don’t act everything is going to be okay. I’m not sure I believe him, but at least it’s a little bit of something to hold onto. ‘Talk, don’t act’ I keep reminding myself.

So yeah, I think about dying. A lot. Practically every day and sometimes all day. It doesn’t mean I’ll do it in the end but that smartness of mine? It has me scared. Especially, when there doesn’t seem to be any point in living most days. I don’t know, maybe being scared is a good thing because at least it’s something.

And I guess something is always better than nothing…

4 thoughts on “planning

  1. My smartness and I have come to the understanding that I will admit to passive suicidal thoughts so that it’s clear things aren’t good, but I will never admit to active thoughts/plans. That’s how I figure I can get help without getting tossed into hospital.

    Liked by 3 people

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s