Tonight, I was seriously thinking about how nice it would be to die. Literally moments before walking into yoga, I was planning it all out. If you follow my blog, you know I struggle with suicide ideation or whatever the fuck fancy name shrinks want to give it….basically, I think about suicide a lot. I have since I was just a kid.
Ok; so tonight, my husband told me he needed $270 for a root canal (oh yeah…I eventually went back home last night because a friend reminded me that if I leave and don’t take my daughter, it looks REALLY bad in court). I feel like all I am to him is someone to fuck and take money from. I was pissed. And then all of those negative things that I tell myself started running through my head:
- I’m worthless
- I’m fat
- There is no meaning to my life
- I’m nothing more than an object
- I’m irrational
- I’m intense
- I’m overwhelming
- I’m annoying
- I’m needy
- I’m stupid
The list goes on.
And then there was yoga class.
I am moderately obsessed with this yoga teacher. She’s sexy. Bubbly. Blonde. Super skinny. My type when it comes to chicks. Recently though, I’ve really just enjoyed chatting with her before or after class – about yoga, my job, family, traveling, etc. She’s not into chicks so I’ve kind of moved passed the “omg I want to fuck the shit out of her” phase, and instead I think I’m actually making a friend. Yay me!
In class, she talked about just accepting where we are today; not stressing about working off the food we ate over the holiday or how flexible we are. She talked about meeting ourselves with compassion. I thought about all of those negative things that had gone through my head prior to class. My heart ached with sadness. No one should have to feel that way about themselves.
When I walked into class, I was like 95% confident I was going to kill myself. When I walked out of yoga class, I wasn’t thinking about suicide at all. Amazing how yoga has that effect on me.
My life has been spiraling down since last Tuesday. I’m hoping that tonight’s class set the stage for improvement in my week and the thoughts that go through my head. Not having therapy following a lengthy visit with my family has been way more difficult than I anticipated. When you throw on the extra stress of losing my cat, constant fighting with my husband, and my sister being in the hospital, it really is more than I can handle. I haven’t effectively coped with any of it. And things have gotten so bad, so quickly, that I’m not even sure where to begin. So much has happened. I had planned to spend my week working on saying goodbye to cutting. But at this point, the rest of life is so overwhelming that I can’t even bring myself to go to that emotional place where I can do that. Today it occurred to me just how alone I am in all of this. I am completely without a therapist. I have virtually no friends. And I have no support from my husband. Being alone when you feel the way that I’ve felt the last three days only adds fuel to the fire. Hopefully tomorrow, I’ll remember to show myself compassion.
Image from http://www.sportsdirect.com/running