Yesterday, I had a breakdown.
I was supposed to be going on a zombie walk yesterday, and they moved the time earlier, and I never knew until it was too late. I couldn’t be picked up by the nice girl who had offered to take me there, so she could help me combat my social anxiety, my fear of men, and my problems with my body and how I dress. I couldn’t be brave and face the stares, the strangers, and try and claim some of my life back.
I was stuck at home, nearly completely ready in costume, without an option of getting there and missing something I had tried to use as a point in my recovery, for some organisers deciding they would change the time and not let anyone know.
It’s so unfair that I can be plunged into severe depression by the tiniest things. I know I have already written about this yesterday, but I’m still worried that not being able to do one small thing plunged me that deep again. I was in floods of a good two hours. I was dissociating pretty badly all day, and it just got worse as my mood plummeted. I felt guilty for being so upset, then guilty for asking for help. I couldn’t even relax on the phone to J, and he was a saint with me.
I was actually so guilty and upset that when I got off the phone, I went upstairs and smashed my fists into my head over and over again. I was in such an awful state of mind that when the voices of the dark passenger told me I had to take down all my positive post-it notes, I did. I even took a pin to myself. They wanted me to, and they got their way. I felt like the world’s worst bitch, and I felt like I was overreacting in the worst way.
And the voices?
This heavily edited, of course.
I dropped J a line to apologise for being a bitch, and I was going to go and take a kitchen knife to myself when he text straight back.
No baby, don’t you think that. You weren’t a bitch! We had a perfectly normal conversation!
Those few words stopped the voices. With those words on a screen in front of me, I heard J’s voice, and I immediately thought of the lyrics to one of his songs.
“I finally found something this real,
As solid as the hope that you made me feel…
Don’t throw me away.”
He was right. Getting suicidal again was throwing him, his care, his affection and his kindness away. I would be throwing away something that keeps me going, and I suspect keeps him going too, when he is feeling down. I would be tossing aside the greatest gift I have been given this year- a new chance at happiness.
I held onto my phone and texted back until I felt better.
He has saved my life more times than he knows, and I will repay his kindness by staying here, on this earth, and trying to fight as hard as I can to stop my condition from killing me. I am not going anywhere- I told him that on the first night we were lying on the couch in Florida, and I will not break my promise.
I deserve better, and so does he.
J, you’ve been bruised, beaten, and almost broken, but I’m not going to let you down.