This time I cried for almost everything, especially for the sorrow I feel from the lack of having my siblings in my life, or me being in theirs. Though I have learnt to live without them, the guilt has created a deep, dark unending pool inside of me that holds a lot of woes, a never ending ache for them that will always be there. Sometimes I wonder why I feel heartbroken when I shouldn't be and only now realise that it's from the all the yearning to see my brother and sisters. The gap that no one has filled, I guess it's difficult for people to understand this gap unless they too have been through something similar. But I think everyone can appreciate that unlike lovers who go in and out of your life, your siblings, if you have them, remain in your life forever. (This may put things into perspective, if you don't know why or how the way things are in my life.)
I get the whole 'making peace with your past to move forward', I really do and with almost everything else, I have done just that. But this one thing has got me stumped. The worst thing is that before Friday night (when I broke down) I could almost see the light, I was seeking help, I was nearly at the end of the long waiting list, I had been given the date to my first therapy session. I knew that all I had to do was hold everything together until then- May 7th for the first therapy session or just after May 15th when my last deadline was but as you can see, it didn't go to plan. I suppose the trouble with doing that is that you end up creating jenga like towers of everything, eventually something will slip, resulting in the avalanche that I experienced. Going back to the beginning though, it's only been a couple of days, and I still don't know if was a good thing or a bad thing- this inner storm.
I cringe and feel tight chested thinking back on everything I went through that night. I just lost it and started crying over something that I would not normally cry about. I locked myself in the bathroom, sat on the floor in complete darkness. I questioned every fiber of my being. Just to interject- I had had a good day, I was content with my day- I had gone for brunch with two friends, we'd had a good time. And in the evening I had shut myself away in the bathroom- a room that I go to for solace when the going gets tough sometimes. I questioned my place in the world, my place amongst my friends, my degree, my home, my siblings, my achievements, my motivation, my strength. I even questioned my progress since running away from my father's and I questioned my life there after. I even messaged my friends to stay away from me. I cried until I lost all hope, until I had belittled away every inch of my heart, mind and soul, until I so small that I had become nothing. I was defeated.
Thinking back on it right now, I realise that I still haven't got past it. I feel fragile. I think it would be worse if those friends hadn't come to my rescue, if my knight in shining armour hadn't sat outside the door trying to pull me out from the darkness I had let consume me, and had a friend not kept messaging me to try and lift me out of the dark pool. Now, this is a sensitive subject- I did not want to commit suicide at any point- I just simply didn't want to exist. And you may be wondering why I'm writing about this, I guess it's because when I'm writing, I feel free, unbound by those dark thoughts, and though I know that many people will read this, right now I feel like I'm only typing this to an extension of myself.
Until next time,