Her last plummet into darkness was just more than she could bear. She lost her will to live. There was no more strength to fight with. She spent a lifetime screaming and begging for someone to understand that is was getting harder and harder to climb out of that damn black hole. It kept sucking her back in.
She tried so hard to be wanted. She knew she was needed. Everyone wanted her to meet their needs at the drop of a hat. Who cared that her illnesses were ravaging her body a little more each day that went by. With heat searing down her legs, toes curled and locked into never ending cramps and tears pouring out of vacant eyes, they demanded their needs be met – now. She told them over and over that she was rapidly losing her will to live. She lost count of the serious suicide attempts. They didn’t even remember how fragile she was becoming. No one heard her crying out. More likely, they just couldn’t be bothered to care.
Every friendship ended because during her times in the black hole, she had nothing to give beyond the demands “they” made. She tried to find the strength to reach out but the words were lost.
There had been too many losses during the last six years. On bended knee, she pleaded for someone to just hold her.
When she decided to stop fighting, the black hole became a place of comfort rather than fear. It enveloped her providing her with the love and warmth no one else seemed to have for her. She stopped fighting the hole whenever it would call out for her. She welcomed the darkness and the peace that the hole provided. She didn’t think about those people. If they could not be bothered to hear her screams then why should she care anymore – about anything.
She spent eight days on life support last August. She fought their efforts to keep her alive. They tried every day to wean her off the vent. She almost won the battle. She begged the black hole to not let go of her. She longed for the day in which her body and soul would be free of pain. She longed for it and dreampt of it often. Every day they would turn the vent off in hopes she would breathe on her own. If only they had known how hard she was fighting their efforts. How could they know of her desire to be set free? No one else listened to her cries. Why would strangers listen? She wanted them to give up on her. Let her go. Let her find the joy she yearned for. She didn’t even care what happened to people after they took their last breath. On the eighth day, they defeated her. Her body betrayed her once again. When no one was looking, she sobbed uncontrollably. She thought about her suicide attempt in 1996 when she took enough pills to kill a horse. Her boyfriend and roommate read her suicide note and saw the empty medicine bottles. They left her on the couch and went on about their busy lives for three days. She was near death and barely breathing. They did not even call for an ambulance. There was no effort to save her life. After eighty plus hours of being on the brink of death, her body betrayed her by forcing her lungs to breathe, her heart to beat strong and her eyes to open. Her boyfriend welcomed her back and changed the channel. Their decision to not help her just reinforced the fact she was worthless.
She thought back to her second serious suicide attempt when she was eighteen. Her father was enraged because he had to get out of bed to retrieve her from the hospital. He asked her how she could be so selfish. Didn’t she know he had to go to work the next day and he was forced to get out of bed in the middle of the night just to pick her up. He never asked how many stitches it took to stop the blood from gushing out of both wrists. His only concern was his interrupted sleep and what an inconvenience she was. This, from her father. He was supposed to love her. Wasn’t he?
With every failed attempt her family found a way to reinforce the belief that she was worthless. With each failed attempt, she came to hate God more and more for not letting her die. Didn’t He know how worthless she was. Didn’t He care about the excruciating pain in her soul. If he really were a loving God, wouldn’t he let body leave the hell which consumed her every waking moment. If God didn’t care about the agony she was in, how could we call him a loving God? Maybe it was just her that He didn’t love.
One loss after another with no one to hold and comfort her, the spirit which dwelled inside her started dying. At the age of 53, she decided enough was enough. She packed her suitcase, walked out the door and never looked.
I will never look back. I am finished being a doormat and servant. I will no longer allow you to abuse me. I will no longer give someone a piece of my heart if their only concern is themselves. I will no longer allow you to push me towards the black hole. I will no longer allow you to destroy new (or old) friendships because you pushed me into the hole. You know I stop communicating with the world when I am locked away deep inside the hole.
I am sure I have lost the two newest people in my life. I found them on WordPress. I made a commitment to one of them who is trapped in a black hole. He needed me but not in the way the others do. He made me feel wanted and cared for. Get your mind out of the gutter. It is not a romantic or sexual love between us. We had become brother and sister. I let him down. I stopped being there for him and I would rather die than cause him pain. I know I have hurt him deeply and I don’t know if he will be able to forgive me. He had become the joy in my life. He made me smile. With hundreds of miles between us, he gave me the hugs that no one else would. He doesn’t even know of the pain and hopelessness I have been living for so damn long. He lives with enough of that himself. I don’t want to burden him with my crap.
I know I have hurt the person who introduced me to the person Who stretched his arms hundreds of miles to hug me. I came to love her deeply. If she chooses to read this, she will know I am speaking of her. She has changed my life in a way she will never grasp. She is THE one who gave me the courage to start changing my situation. She doesn’t have a magic wand therefore the change would not happen over night. I had to go back to the black hole one more time in order to examine my life and decide who could stay and who had to go. I separated from my husband. I have been searching the corners of the world for six years looking for the courage to leave him. SHE helped me understand that courage came from within. Look no more. It has been inside of me all along. She helped me understand that I am not obligated to help or care for anyone who just wants to take from me and give nothing in return to my spirit. I have already reclaimed my power from the ones in this house, not just my husband. If they do not wish to uplift my spirit and encourage me to chase my dream which was buried and forgotten so long ago, then I will gladly help them find somewhere else to dwell. I will never lose a friend again because I allow you to push me into the black hole. You no longer have power over me. I will NEVER give my power away again. I will NEVER allow anyone to make me feel worthless again. If I am not worth your time then you are not worthy of my love.
I may never attain my dream of being an author but if I can make my followers feel something, then I am successful. If my words help just one person find their courage and power so that they may make the changes they dream of, then I am a success. If my words are powerful enough to touch you deep in your soul, then I am a success.
I did not write this in order for anyone to pity me or feel sorry for me. I need support and encouragement. Pity will not help me. I wrote my story so that anyone suffering this kind of pain can see that it is NEVER to late to reclaim your life, as long as you are still breathing, anyway. I may never understand why I did not die all those times in which I hovered so close to death’s door. I only know that for the first time in my life, I’m grateful that I didn’t die. I started cutting at the age of 10. That was 43 years ago and it wasn’t popular then. That was when I started crying out for help. No one listened. (I stopped cutting many years ago)
You heard my cries and you helped me. I will never be able to find the words to adequately describe the gratitude I have for you. You set me on the road to reclaiming my light. I hope it is not to late. I can’t stand the thought of losing you and the light of your spirit which shines so bright. Please forgive me.
You will never begin to understand the depth of the pain in my soul for letting you down. I never wanted to burden you with the crosses I bear. You carry enough of your own without me adding to them. You may never understand just how deeply you have touched my soul. You made me smile every day. You gave me a reason to get out of bed. I knew I would write you therefore I had no choice but to get out of bed. My tears flow freely down my cheeks at the thought of You not forgiving me. Each tear begs for forgiveness as it falls to the floor.
As of June 9th, 2016, I do solemnly swear to never again be a victim, nor will I give my power away.