Sorry not sorry

As far as I’m concerned, I’ve never been a selfish person. I have countless memories going back decades of always putting my family first, other’s feelings before my own, my sibling’s happiness at Christmas before my finances, and parents worries always being my own. And if there’s one thing I can vouch for, it’s that I’ve never once thought of myself as anything other than an amazing friend.

I wouldn’t say any of that has changed much, except I’ve become more rational with my thoughts and realized that in some rare instances, I should probably put myself first. I still have a hard time doing it because, as much of an asshole as I am, I’m such a people pleaser, and because I’ve established myself as that kind of person, it’s something that’s almost become an expectation.

I’m not writing this to call anyone out, because there’s no one target, but more so to air out my feelings. In the last few weeks.. going on months technically, I’ve been in a painful place. A very painful place. I’ve been there before, and I’m sure I’ll be there again, but it doesn’t make it any easier when it comes. This time though, it’s a harder kind of pain. I’ve had my many moments of wanting to commit suicide, heavily researching ways to get it done, and having to just force myself to sleep at 6 pm because I’m worried about what I’ll do if I think about it any longer. There’s also just the daily thoughts: maybe the train won’t stop, maybe that semi will blow the red light, maybe the guy walking behind me at 8 pm is holding a gun, or maybe, I finally won’t wake up tomorrow. Those kinds of things are my “normal”, and after so many years, it’s not alarming anymore. Not to me. And I’ve given up on that changing.

What scared me recently is a situation I was in where any normal person would think to call 911, look for an escape route, worry about what was going to happen next, and probably scream or cry. My first thought was maybe this is finally it.. and I hoped it wouldn’t be too painful. I was excited at the possibility that I could be gone without having to hurt my family by suicide. That’s fucked up. And once I realized what had gone through my head, it scared the shit out of me. A few days later, I was very close to an attempt. I only told one person what my plan was, and it’s the person who talked me off the ledge that day.

This isn’t a cry for help. I know I need help, and I cry out for it when I do. I don’t owe anyone an explanation, but for my own sanity, I would feel better if I did. When I’m at this kind of a moment in my life, it’s hard to reach out to people, even the closest of friends who want to help, because there’s nothing they CAN do to help. And I need those close people to please not take it personally. I’m not going to text as often because carrying on a conversation about anything feels something like having to swim through cement. I’m not going to be up your ass to hang out because I don’t have the energy to fake the interaction. It’s not personal. I don’t hate you. But I cannot do it right now. And I don’t know when that will change. If that’s not something you can handle, you’re honestly not worthy of my time or friendship.

To those I’m not as close with, you probably haven’t gotten this far to reading this or clicked the link at all. If you have, it probably means you give some sort of a fuck, and I sincerely appreciate you listening to my rant. I’m sorry in advance for not attending your birthday party, baby shower, Friendsgiving, Christmas party, or taking you up on every bar hopping event. If you’d like to Netflix and chill, you know where to find me.