I’m hurting right now. Hurting more than I ever thought was possible.
These are my thoughts:
I hate that I’m breaking Alun’s heart because I told him I was suicidal. It was my cry for help. I know if Alun was feeling the way I am, I’d want to know. He is crying alone in the living room while I plot my own demise on this laptop in our bedroom. Oh Alun…a thousand times, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You made it okay for me to step out of the shadows – to feel the sun on my face and to be myself. I can never thank you enough for allowing that. For encouraging that. For seeing me as I truly am and for wrapping your arms around me and whispering “Love you, Gorg” into my ear.
I don’t want to see my Dad in a jar. I can’t even begin to describe how fucking FINAL that will be and no, I’m not up for that. I’d literally rather die.
I don’t want to see my Mom because I can’t carry her any more. If she was financially stable, then seeing Mom would be an entirely different thing but right now? Right now my Mom is a vast hole I will NEVER be able to fill and trying to do so? It’s killing me. It LITERALLY is killing me.
I don’t want to get up because then I’ll have to go to work. I DON’T WANT TO GO TO WORK. If I stay home, housework will bully me into doing it. I don’t want to do the housework!!! I’m FUCKING SICK OF IT!!! If I go to hospital, I have to attend classes. I don’t want to do any of that. I WANT A FUCKING REST but don’t see that becoming a reality for me. Especially not with Mom arriving soon. Every time my phone ‘pings’, I jump because I know it will be another request and I know I’ll be unable to fulfil it. I’ve been the ‘disappointing child’ my whole life, no point trying to change that status now, is there?
There is no way out this time, guys. No escape. No liferaft in this huge, scary fucking sea I’m slowly sinking in. Nothing. I’ve looked, I promise you. I can’t see a way out of this searing, heart wrenching, knee-buckling, life-threating pain.
IRONIC THAT THE ONLY WAY OUT IS FROM INSIDE A WOODEN BOX being lowered into the ground. That’s all that’s left to try. Because I’ve fucking tried EVERYTHING ELSE. I can say that and know it’s 100% true. I’m proud of myself for trying so hard for so long. I like that about myself. That’s why I quote “I get knocked down but I get again” on this blog – because for 100,000 times…I got back up.
Just not this time.
Like a bloodied and bruised boxer, laid out by that one final punch, I am laying on the ground in the boxing ring of life and my tired, almost-swollen-shut eyes are going to close for the very. last. time. I am not going to get back up from this one.
If – by some stunning miracle of God – Alun and I won the lottery tonight and I didn’t have to go to work and I COULD afford to love my Mom and I didn’t have to clean the house because we could employ a cleaner…
…I’d still want to die.
And that’s how I know that this is probably going to be my last post.
This is my goodbye.
I like to talk, so this is going to be a long one. I’m going to take my time because fuck it, I am allowed to make this blog as long as I like. Just this once.
I want the people I love to read this and know why I killed myself. I killed myself because I’d had enough and just couldn’tbear the pain a day longer. That’s it. There you go. Simple, really.
I thought about where to start this particular blog on the train ride home, you know. How do I explain this incredible pain I’m in? How do I get you to understand that I had no other choice? HOW???
So I’ll start at the beginning. The first time I wanted to die.
Which gets me thinking…when was that?
Where did I start wanting to die? When did I first think “You know what? checking out would be a great idea”?
Was it when that old Italian man assaulted me in that dark shed at the flower stall?
Was it when Wallace came into my gym and stood silently next to me watching me? That feeling of fear when I reached behind for my gym towel on the treadmill and connected with your body. I shrunk back in absolute terror. “What are you doing here?” THIS IS NOT YOUR GYM. HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE – WATCHING ME? I felt so fucking frightened. Gyms need tighter security to protect the members from non-members and potential dangerous people, they really do. I won’t wear earphones at the gym now, instead I’m listening out for any sign of danger. Wallace ruined that for me.
Was it when no one would play with “the dirty nigger” at school? Those profoundly lonely times in the playground where no one would be my friend. Was it then? Every time I got chosen last for the team at gym class – when the other kids wouldn’t make eye contact with me and nobody wanted me on their team – was it then?
Was it when I got fired that first time? Or was it the 50th time? Every single time I pack my personal items into a bag, a piece of my heart breaks off and my heart doesn’t ever re-grow them. There are peices of me that lie scattered in offices all over this city. Fact.
Was it when both Fee and Joy (Ironic name) both mercilessly bullied me in different jobs? Or when in the HSS job Stuart went out of his way to humiliate me by going around the office taking back the Christmas gifts I’d lovingly wrapped – calling them bribes when I’d been fired a week before and had nothing to gain from just wanting to celebrate Christmas with friends I’d made in the office. That hurt me so much!
I’m covered in bullet holes. I’m bleeding out. For once, I’m not going to try to patch up the holes. I’ll just let it go.
I’ll let myself go.
I have to. I can’t endure one more day of this pain. I really can’t.
Was the first time I wanted to kill myself when I was sleeping on a stranger’s floor in the room she’d set aside for a gym (but had clearly never used because she was overweight and all the equipment looked so new even though she’d had this room for 5 years?)? I had nowhere else to go (thanks, Anne. Bitch) so I ended up there because a friend knew this girl had a spare room I could stay in for that night. I remember I hadn’t eaten in 3 days and she – for some insane reason – had a stack of 3 minute dried noodles in her ‘gym’. So I sat on the red plastic bench in that room – meant to be used as gym equipment – and I ripped open a packet and ate the square of dried noodles without a moment’s hesitation. When you’re hungry and homeless – dried noodles are the bomb. I didn’t know when or where my next meal would be so I scoffed those noodles down within seconds.
Was it when Anne took my dignity? She put me through a YEAR OF ABSOLUTE HELL. If I could, I would want the same thing to happen to her. If God allowed me to dole out a punishment to Anne (not that He ever would, but go with me on this one ok?), it wouldn’t be crabs. It wouldn’t be cancer. It wouldn’t be an insatiable hunger so that Anne would end up on those reality tv shows for being FUCKING MASSIVE. It wouldn’t be taking her arms or legs off and disabling her. It wouldn’t be putting her in jail. I would literally just wish upon her what she put me through. That is the worst thing I could ever think of enduring and I’d want her to endure it. I did.
Was the first time I considered suicide when Akim put his fingers into my vagina in the deep end of that pool in the Legian Beach Hotel in Bali without my consent and every part of my girlhood innocence was destroyed? It hurt. His fingers inside me. It hurt a lot. A grown man and a teenage girl. So much was so wrong in that moment that will stand still in time for as long as I’m alive. Do you want to know what I was thinking as it was happening to me? I hope my little brother didn’t see. I’d hate for him to suffer the knowledge of this experience. FACT.
Did I want to die when I got blamed for everything Jay did – that wasn’t my fault but I got punished while he got taken out to the store “for a treat” and I sat in my room wondering how this was okay and what was so fucking wrong with me that I was being smacked and grounded for something I didn’t fucking do? Was it then that I wanted to die? I think it might have been, yeah. I know it was painful. It was heart shattering. It took my self-esteem crushed it into a fine powder whenever my brother was favoured over me…and that happened EVERY SINGLE DAY of my life. It happens EVEN NOW. It is never ending. Well…death could end it and boy would I like a respite from it.
Was it when I heard my Mom’s voice at 5am that fateful morning telling me that my bigger-than-life Dad was suddenly gone? MY DAD DIED!!!
Was it when Gavin would lock me in the house whenever he’d leave and I’d look through the screen door at the sunshine on the leaves of trees swaying outside and wish I could fly away? I was locked up for 3 long years. Was it having my freedom taken away that made me suicidal?
Or was it the first time Gavin hit me? Or was it when I forgave him and let him do it again months later?
Was it when I went to the Doctors after Alun and I returned from Koh Samui because I’d been bleeding heavily and there were these thick clots in my blood – tonnes of it. It went on for 3 days and it wasn’t my period so I made a Doctors appointment. Did I want to kill myself when the Doctor sent me for tests and scans and soon after said the bleeding and clots was actually AN UNBORN CHILD? Only a few weeks old…but our baby died. Was it then that I wanted to die? Yes. I did. Not even Alun knows about that. I kept that secret and will do so for the rest of my life. (Lucky for me, it’s only for a few more days. Maybe not even that long. Ha! Awesome).
Was it every time my first husband turned me away in thep bedroom…or was it when I got a BILL for being married to Jon a few weeks after I finally gathered the courage to leave him? I stared in disbelief at that Itemised bill; so precise in nature that the accuracy and AUDACITY of it shocked me when I recieved it? That ’email attachment’ with a spreadsheet of neatly listed things I owed Jonathan – that was worse than if he’d come over and ripped my fingernails out one by one. How someone could INVOICE ME for being their wife? OMG that day…I didn’t even need to overdose or cut my wrists…that spreadsheet of ‘costs incurred’ did it for me. Wow Jon. I would never have expected that. I gave up my home, my family,y friends, my Uni degree…I gave up everything for you – and youre going to BILL me?!? Well sir, I’m going to die and you’re not going to get a fucking cent.
Was it when Jay wouldn’t come to my birthday because ANNE told him I was a psycho? He picked a side that day and it wasn’t mine. I spent that birthday alone because Anne got to my friends before I did. I at least thought I could count on my family but Mom and Dad were outraged that an INCEST rumour had been spread (thanks again, Anne. YOU FUCKING BITCH) so they didn’t come…and neither did Jay. He used to be my best friend, you know? My favourite person. I rang him “Are you…are you coming to my party?” He didn’t even have the decenty to ring and tell me, I had to chase HIM for the rejection that was to ruin my spirit. That was the first time Jay broke my heart. He’s continued to do so in so many creative, surprising, almost admirable in their cunning/secrecy/clothed in ‘good intentions’ ways ever since.
Whenever I’ve needed to be loved, Jay was the first to run as far away from me as he could. I’ve lost count of the times Jay has abandoned me, it’s been that often. So I’ve chosen today to be the one FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER to leave you, Jay. What breaks my heart is that you won’t even care.
Someone: “Your sister’s dead”
Jay: “Oh” (probably struggling to remember he even has one)
** a minute later ** Jay: “Soooooo…where’s a good place for tacos? Anyone wanna go halves on the lunchtime deal they’ve probably got going? Let’s get extra Guac”
Oh how I wish you would have cared, Jay. That would have changed everything. You stopped loving me over 25 years ago and stopped talking to me 4 years ago. 4 years ago you ‘blocked me’ in real life. Wow. I have and always will love you, though. Asshole.
Was it when Alun and I had 3-4 long weeks of not even being friends and thought we were getting divorced? Was that when I considered suicide – really doing it – was it then?
Sidenote – someone right now…is praying for me. I can feel it. I’ve always been able to tangibly feel when someone is asking God about me.
Anyway. Back to my goodbye rant.
I know when it was now.
The first time I wanted to die, I was 5 years old, standing outside my parent’s bedroom…listening to them weigh up the options of giving me away. That’s when I truly 100% wanted to die. That’s when I first thought “I can’t bear this…I want to end myself. I want to make ME go away”.
Now the flipside:
The reasons I have tried again and again to keep getting back up when life punches me in the kidneys:
ALUN. Alun a billion times. Alun.
My friends. , Dianti you are sunshine in a person. Cat, you have the best giggle of all time. Gary – you make me want to travel and that’s no small feat, my friend. Karyn, I think of you whenever I see a rainbow. I think of Kim whenever I see a beautiful sunset and of Aurelie when I see what she calls “fat raindrops” down a window pane. Kelly – you are the epitome of a faithful servant of God. I’m so grateful for all the times you’ve picked me up, dusted me off and pointed me back to Jesus’s loving face. Kate, Denise, Bridie and Rob…you are the 4 genuine friends I made from our Hollywood Hospital stay last December. I thank God for you guys in and out of hospital, you’ve been by my side.
Becci, you are the best friend everyone wishes they had but only a few of us actually have. You’re a diamond, bestie. You are the strongest, bravest, most beautiful girl in the world…joined in greatness by Samantha F and Laura. You three are the cutest groupd ever. I am so proud to have been part of it. VIP’s for liiiiiife!!!
Moiz, my bro. If I had called and asked if you were coming to my birthday that fateful night 25 years ago, you would have said “Pssht – I’m on my way, idiot. Calm down. Just had to get some petrol. Have some cake. I’ll be there in 10”. I would have wanted to push my good fortune and I would have asked “Hey…did you get a call from Anne, too?” And instantly – no delay or pondering – no ‘leaving me on the hook’ – you would have said “That thing? (in your ‘I’m so disgusted’ voice that has always made me laugh) yeah, she called. She tried her bullshit on me. I hung up. Nobody’s got time for that stupid cow, Janet. Forget her”…and you would have been the only person to come to my party. That would have been more than enough people, you know. Just my brother and I – because that’s all I really wanted, anyway. We would have sat under the table like little kids and eaten cake with our fingers. I love you for being my brother when I really needed one.
Vanessa B, Laura, Mary Ellen, Rebecca, Andrew B, the ‘other’ Alun Thomas (my hero) – every time you’ve posted something to lift me up and encourage me on Facebook – you’ve made it easier to breathe. You’ve given me enough hope with the kindness you freely give that because of you, I was able to take another step forward. I love you all so very, very much.
Jaz…DUDE YOU GAVE ME $2000 AS A GIFT. Who does that?!? I will never forget that will be blown over every time I think of you doing such a HUGE thing for me. I can never repay you. You saved my life and you don’t even know it. You are incredible and you’re going to be the BEST Mom ever, just you wait.
Amy and Tamara – both gifting me with money and calling it a Kohar (not sure how to spell it, but it’s Kiwi language for “a special gift”). Without your $500 to pay the deposit on the rooftop bar, Alun and I would never had such an amazing Wedding reception, Amy. YOU made that happen when Alun and I could barely afford to feed ourselves, let alone rent a gorgeous venue. I can’t thank you enough. Mara, you saw my struggle providing for my Mom after Dad died and offered to wire me money to help look after my Mom. I love your kindess and the way you shelter me under your protective arm even though you’re so much younger than I am. Because of you, Mara – the sun shines. I’m convinced of it. You have no idea how fucking amazing you are, neither of you. I hope you read this blog and get a glimpse of how INCREDIBLE you have both been in my life.
Kristy – you are my hero. You are loveliness in a beautiful girl and I’m so thankful for every time I got to talk to you, write to you and grow with you. You have so much strength, courage and you’re so gentle and quiet! I don’t know how you manage it, but you climb metaphorical mountains and you don’t make a sound. It’s incredible. When I see you again in Heaven, you’ll have to tell me how you managed to do that. You are a star that fell from the skies and took on human form. I will never forget how kind and compassionate you’ve always been to me. You are a true friend and it has been my absolute HONOUR to be yours.
Sophie – my favourite “manifucker” in the whole world – you are the BOMB. You’re smart, sassy, brave, strong, sweet, creative AF, thoughtful, calming, hilarious, bright…you are ALL THE COLOURS. Thank you for getting me. Thank you for always making me feel seen, heard and understood. Thank you for encouraging me to say “fuck” and for making me feel stronger, braver and better. You are one of my favourite people ever. Thank you that when others gave me stupid inspirational platitudes, you just let me be me. I love that so much and I will never forget how comfortable I am in your presence. Thank you for validating my pain and struggle. I am the girl who cried wolf…but in my case a wolf was there every time – and you believed me – every time. That, my love – is lifechanging. YOU are lifechanging…in all the best ways. Manifestation can go fuck itself. I love you.
So now that I’ve FINALLY gotten that off my chest…and the tablets I took A LOT of are kicking in…I’ll sign off, eh? Be good. Be yourself no matter what. Order dessert first (Shanti, this one’s for you), dance in the rain, hug and hold tight those who are dear to you…and let your Dad win sometimes. You’ll look back and be glad you did.
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