Wednesday, 8 June 2011


So I have started writing this post about six times now but I just don't have the insight at the moment to give a good explanation of how things are. Maybe another time I will be better able to expand on things.
One of my guys told T about what happened last weekend with the rope and my neck. They sent her an email with the blog post in it. I went to see her yesterday and she did seem rather concerned. She wanted to find out what the heck was going on in my head and what could be done to prevent me from doing anything stupid (not exactly the wording she used). I think psychology also have risk forms and things they have to fill in as policy so she wanted to ask lots of questions.
A big part of me feels it has all been blown out of proportion and that there is no problem, nothing to worry about, I want life, I'm strong, that's it... I was just having a moment.
Another part is scared though... really scared. Scared because someone inside does want to die and maybe it is strong too. I didn't want to admit this to T though because of the part that felt it would just add fuel to the fire and I'd end up getting locked up when there's actually nothing at all wrong with me except for a few loose screws. I find it hard even to admit to myself how this part feels.
T wants me to get rid of the rope. We both agreed that perhaps if it hadn't been sitting right there in front of me, I wouldn't have thought about hanging myself.
This is hard to say (I have been dithering about this paragraph for over an hour now), seeing as I want to live and it's all fuss over nothing... but (I wish there was a way to whisper on a blog) I haven't been able to get rid of it yet. I lifted it off the floor today, I held it in my hands, thought about putting it in the bin, then put it round my neck again and pulled it tight. Afterwards I put it back on the floor. I could feel the pain in my oesophagus afterwards. Part of me felt good afterwards, part of me scared, part of me angry that I didn't 'finish the job'.
I don't want to die but when I think about putting it in the bin my hands get clammy and my heart starts beating faster and I feel anxious. I hear someone inside far away say that it doesn't matter... there are other things that can be used if need be. I think it's more the symbolism of throwing the rope away that means a lot to some person. They don't agree to the decision so there on the floor it lies. They want to have options. It's fucked up that I've written that but will get up tomorrow and do a days work and no one will look at me and know what I was doing last night because they will just see a friendly person who's obviously stable otherwise she wouldn't be holding down that job.


Pandora said...

I don't really have anything of value to add, but I wanted you to know that I'm still reading, that I've read this, and that I'm rooting for you. I know very well that it's hard to juggle a suicide/life dichotomy, and there's only one of me, so it must be torturous for you :(

I hope the suicidal insider can find peace in some less extreme way. Gah, that sounds horribly trite. Sorry. The sentiment behind it is real, though.

Thinking of you. Take care of yourself x

Candycan said...

Thanks Pandora, your comment is valuable to me. It's also encouraging to know that someone reads my blog every now and then. I feel guilty for posting my pathetic moanings on the internet, like I am hurting the world somehow by keeping a blog. It's always surprising to find that someone came on my blog and made it through a whole post!
Thanks for your hope :)

Anonymous said...

I think you are so brave. All of you. I have been reading your blog and am in awe at how strong you really are. Sharing is bravery.