“Sometimes the greatest tests of our strength are situations that donʹt seem so obviously dangerous. Sometimes surviving is the hardest thing of all.”―Richelle Mead
I had my second appointment with my therapist today. We are still going through my "comprehensive" paperwork. After two in a half hours of sessions we are still not done with the breakdown. She told me today that I have had more trauma in twenty years then more people have in a lifetime. She told me that it is no wonder why I don't know how to just "live" or how to understand the meaning of happiness when my whole life my main goal and factor has just been to survive. She expressed that it is impossible for someone to take care of themselves if they have never been taken care of. She told me that there are so many parts and pieces to what made and broke me. Until you open yourself up and speak every word of your past to someone you truly don't understand the direct impact that it has always played on your life. You don't see the reflection of those factors inside of yourself especially if you have always locked them up inside. I am going to continue with the one on one therapy and working with getting all of the necessary referrals made to see a psychiatrist to adjust my medications. Today my doctor increased my anxiety pills so now my Zoloft and Welbutrin are completely at the max doses. It is sad when there are so many things that I have to take and I still feel completely empty inside. Not so much empty as abandoned, alone, and broken. I don't know where my life stands anymore. On one end it is good to hear someone innuendo that your not just fucking insane and that all of these factors have made it nearly impossible to have any amount of sanity at all. She was amazed with how much strength I have had with the huge load I have always carried with not only my past but also my present; two kids, full time school, a full time job, a husband, and carrying all the main responsibilities of everyone else's burdens and shortcomings. She said it is amazing that I have held on for so long.
Opening up has advantages and disadvantages. The negative being the reliving process of all of the things I have tried to hide for so long. No one really understands and now more then ever I feel alone. Everyone's bad attitudes about not getting enough of my attention, doing more then they ever have, and their own self created drama has kind of left me in the shadows. My therapist says she is very concerned that I will relapse and try and commit suicide again. To be honest I don't know what the future looks like, I have mainly trying to focus on one day at a time and really more like one minute at a time. My body is completely shutting down from still detoxing all of the aspirin and I am seriously mentally overloaded. I wish someone could understand my mind but no one ever truly will. In reality I don't even understand it so it's not like someone else can have the opportunity or enough insight to. Not that anyone is really trying to gain one. My everyday assignment now is to keep a record of all of the emotions that I feel in a day. For some reason my therapist thinks that it will benefit me. We had to make a list of my strengths today and when I couldn't think of any she listed them. After she read them all off she asked me if I agree with them and I said no. I just don't know much of anything anymore. No one ever wants to say that there is a chance that life could push them that far again but in reality my emotions are so erratic that I can't deny that happening. Even from time to time I start to think, if I ever do it again I better do it right. All in all it is just a learning process I guess. I don't know where I am, who I am, where I belong, where I will be. Nothing is certain anymore and everything I thought I knew was a lie. It is like I am square one and back to living battles that I fought as a child. I need time to process this all. My devils are stronger then I had believed and I am weaker then I have always pretended to be. I guess I thought that if I convinced everyone else I could convince myself at the same time. I guess that this is my so called reflection for the day. I made it one more day further. It has officially been 17 days, 4 hours, and 17 minutes since my overdose. Everything in my life still feels like a bad dream. Guess I just need to wake up from this nightmare and pick up all of my broken glass.
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