Why Would I?

It bothers me that I don't have a clever introduction to this post, but maybe it's just as well. I realize this one has the potential to make people tune me out. They might say, "she never has anything happy to say." "She doesn't appreciate all that she has." "She shouldn't share those things publicly."

But here I am. So...

Have I ever thought about suicide? Yes. I suppose most people have. You just thought about it as you read that sentence. Perhaps the more pointed question is: have I ever considered it?

Yes. I won't go into details, and I will specify that it's not my ideal path (that's an explanation for a future post). It's sufficient for this story to say my thoughts were concerning enough at one point that my then-therapist recommended I go to the ER, just to be safe. There, the medical professionals asked me the always-tricky question: why?

I don't know, but here are some possibilities.

Because the good parts are few and far between, and they seem to be growing rarer. Because in between the good days, I struggle to make it to the end of the day. I try to fit in everything I need to do before I go to sleep. Then I don't get enough sleep and have to wake up just to do it all over again. I'm so, so tired.

Because most days, I can't stand myself. I don't feel good enough for anything. I feel like I've failed almost everything I've done and that I will continue to be a disappointment.

Because I deal with normal life stresses, but my anxiety makes everything appear as a challenge I have to overcome. Bad things seem to happen all at the same time, and they make me think God just doesn't want me to have peace.

Because I have moments I feel like a bad mom. Some moments I realize my illness is whispering untruths to me, but I can't silence the voices. Then I have moments I know are real parenting mistakes, the kind that could have long-term repercussions for my children.

Because I once told my husband I regretted bring life into a world that is pointless and painful. When he replied that isn't true for everyone, I knew the hereditary nature of my disease makes it more likely my kids will experience this, too. That scares me more than I can describe, and sometimes I think I'd rather leave than ever witness their pain.

I could add a lot more, but I think you get the idea. Please know these thoughts aren't always in my head; they represent some of the demons I fight in my darkest hours. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

We Can Do Better

I have a brother-in-law who once posted an article about a woman revived after a lightning strike. Her recovery was considered a miracle since she was thought to be dead. After she was revived, she claimed that she had traveled through hell and could discern the sins that had led individuals there. She said the deepest level, full of the worst suffering and completely isolated from God, was reserved for those who had committed suicide. I'm sure my relative shared the story to encourage people to think more seriously about the fate of their souls and the consequences of their actions. While I wondered about the theological validity of the woman's claims (and even whether or not her "experience" was actually a side effect of the lightning strike), I kept thinking that my brother-in-law was willing to promote a story that proclaimed suicidal individuals are the worst type of people. Stigma, judgment, fear - many things prevent individuals with mental illness from rec
Read more

Family History

My husband is 100% Polish. One grandparent and all of his great-grandparents were born in Poland. Even a relative who may have been born in an area that was once part of Russia listed "Polish" as his native language. Polish traditions are still pretty strong in his family, and I have to admit, I'm a little jealous of their cultural heritage. What is my own ethnic background? In short, I don't know exactly. When I was younger, my parents always told me I was Irish and German. They were a little vague on the percentages of each and when my ancestors came to the United States. Additionally, we don't have any explicit traditions linking us to those particular cultures. I sometimes joked that I was a "mutt" waiting to be adopted by a more specific tradition. I have recently begun to research more of my family history. I have verified that at least a few relatives came from Germany, probably in the 1800s. Another line seems to go back to Wales; that family
Read more

Summer Reflections

The beginning of summer can be a difficult time for me. I look forward to warm weather, festivals, extra time with my kids, and a more relaxed atmosphere. It also comes with graduations and the discussion of students' choices of colleges and majors. Given my insecurities, it's hard not to look at what others are doing and wonder if I made the best decisions for myself. In my AP class this week, students were discussing which medical specialty they may want to pursue. There were only seven individuals in the room, but five of them were chatting about their plans for medical school. In my experience, when people find out about my education history, they can't understand why I would have abandoned physical therapy or optometry for a teaching career. Just the other day, though, an interesting memory returned to me. Within the first couple months of optometry school, I was restless. Unlike other students, I wasn't excited by the clinic rotations; I didn't care w
Read more