not posting this to get replies. right now, i just need to clear my head and have something to remember when i go see my therapist. i need to make an appt with her ASAP. until then though...
idk what happened. i dont know how i got so low. i went to bed. it was a little after 3am, Friday night... and i was laying there, just thinking about everything. earlier in the day, i was talking with my ex's mom and her friend about our life history... ex's mom said that after i left him (my ex), his life just went downhill. from working a great job, getting ready to get his GED- to cocaine, heroin, theft, etc. just a shit ton of stuff.
i felt bad for it. i felt... FEEL like his downfall is on me.
i thought about my mom. she blamed everything on me. her miscarriage, her divorce, her needing to not be a mom b/c raising me was too stressful and thats why she ran away- keeps running away. b/c of me.
i feel like everything is MY fault.
i didnt want to live. i dont want to live. i'm not at that point where i'd take my own life... but i'd rather give my life to someone else. have them tell me what to say, how to act, what to wear... even what emotion to feel.
i'm so sick and tired of having to be strong, i want to curl up and die. just not breathe anymore.
and then it got worse.
even though i was laying down, i had nothing in my hands... but i felt as if i had a knife in my hand. i felt the tip of the knife pressing against my neck.
and the urge of wanting to do it... of wanting to go to the kitchen, to grab that knife, to FEEL it slice through my neck was getting too much. too much for me to control, too much for me to turn back from.
so i went and i got my son. i grabbed him and put him in my bed. he's 7 years old. i laid on my back beside him... my right hand (the hand that i felt was holding the knife) was right under his head. the weight of his head on my hand calmed me down some.... i was feeling something real.. and it was heavy enough to make me NOT want to grab that knife.
i stayed like that for a while... until i wrote this... but not before thinking i hate myself. i deserve to die. i should be dead. i am nothing. i will be nothing. how i am now, how i'm feeling now-- i may feel like this in 5 years, in 10 years. 20 years.
my son deserves more. he deserves better than what i can give him. but i cant let him go. i'm selfish. and stupid.
i need help. more than what i'm getting now. i just hope i can hold on until i can set an appointment up.
i am going to bed now. idk if anyone has read this, or even really cares. but i dont want to worry you. i dont plan to kill myself. i do want to live... just not like this. i have the number to the suicide hotline if it gets bad enough. i have people i can leave my son with, if i need to be admitted into the hospital.
i just dont know how it got so bad... so fast. when just a few hours ago, i was feeling okay. i was watching a movie and i was okay. now, i'm a blubbering mess.