I’m drowning in my own blood.....
It’s quickly filling my lungs.......
I’m gasping for air.......
I’m trying to reach for your hand........
You watch me drowning with a grin on your face......
You pull your hand away from me.......
You were my angel who rescued me........
Now you’re my angel of death.........
Your wings which once carried me away from my sorrows......
Now your claws slash me into pieces.......
I gave you my heart.......
You threw it on the ground, smashed it, and spit in my face.......
Why have you done this to me?
Why am I so worthless to you now?
What have I done to deserve this?
I can’t breathe anymore.......
Saturday, December 28, 2019
Tuesday, May 28, 2019
One Year
I know I haven't written in a few months. My dog Nessie passed away February 1st this year. Honestly, it was one of the hardest days for me. There have been a few times since then I almost cut. I wanted to numb the pain of losing her, among other things going on as well. Just last week even my husband had to take a salad slicer blade away from me because I was going to use that to cut. When Nessie died, I told myself that instead of cutting because of her death, she was going to be my inspiration to get my nine month chip. It was difficult, but I made it. When I got that chip, I wrote her name on it so it would always be a reminder that she helped me get that chip. That was in February.
Last night, May 27, 2019, I got my one year sobriety chip for not cutting! I didn't think I would make it honestly. I self-sabotage so often, especially when I've made any progress in anything, but with the support of friends, family, and Christ's grace, I made it! This is the longest I've gone without cutting in years!
I started cutting when I was 16 - on Valentine's Day. I cut for three days and then when my mom found out; I was put in the hospital. I didn't really cut after that until after I got married. Shortly after I was diagnosed with PTSD, around Thanksgiving of 2010, I had a close friend who had been like an older brother to me. In high school we talked all the time. I really trusted him. He was the first person I told I had Autism when I was diagnosed with it. After I got married though, he stopped talking to me. I didn't understand why. He didn't even want to come to my wedding. I finally asked him why he wasn't talking to me anymore and he answered, "I don't care about this relationship anymore" and blocked me. I have not spoken to him since. I was so devastated by his abandonment, that I started cutting again. It was off and on after that. Then a little while after moving to Tennessee, I met a minister. He was like a father figure to me. I really trusted him too. Things got really bad between us though. He started to emotionally abuse me. I started cutting more during that. I had two suicide attempts in the same year during that as well. My cutting got more and more frequent. It got to the point where I was cutting at least three to four times a week - some times more. My family and husband got really worried about me and we talked to my psychiatrist at the time about it. He told them to just let me cut and eventually I'd grow out of it. I'd be cutting and there was nothing they could do about it. I wanted to stop, I knew it wasn't good, but I didn't really have good coping skills (I'm still learning).
The thing about cutting is when my emotions get really intense, cutting numbs me - instantly. The sting from the blade cutting my skin, the blood dripping, somehow it soothed me. Medically-speaking, cutting releases endorphins. After I cut, I emotionally don't feel anything. I feel numb. When your emotions so often get really intense, it can feel good to not feel anything. This isn't healthy though. I remember talking to a therapist about it and she said, "You won't find any healthy coping skills that numb you like that." It's disappointing for sure. There are risks to cutting though. You can get infections, and if you do it a certain way, you can possibly kill yourself (I know how to not kill myself doing it though).
Anyway, a couple years ago, after we moved to Georgia, we started going to a Celebrate Recovery program at our church at the time. I even got a sponsor. I started going mainly to work on my cutting. While there though, I realized I had other problems too (such as codependency). The longest I've gone without CR was 11 months. Then when I started going to CR, I went 8 months. Then a year ago, we were involved in a major car accident. That was extremely frightening for me. We had been t-boned on my side of the car by an SUV. The fire department had to cut my door off to get me out of the car. I really thought I was going to die. There was glass everywhere and I couldn't breathe. I thought maybe some glass had stabbed me or something. For a little while, I wasn't suicidal after that because I figured if God really wanted me to die, I would've died in that accident. The suicidal feelings did come back though and I've struggled with them daily since.
When the eight month chip came back around, I was scared because I thought, "I blew it right after I got my eight month chip last time, what if it happens again?" I was determined to not let that happen again though, and I had a lot of support to help me along the way too. The closer I got to my one year mark, the more excited yet more anxious I got. Like I said, I have a tendency to self-sabotage. Then the day finally came. I stopped by at a friend from church's house. She's a professional with hair and makeup and she said she would do my hair and makeup for my one year chip. She asked me what I wanted and for my hair and I showed her a picture online. For my makeup I wanted something similar she had done on herself on Facebook. She did an EXCELLENT job with my hair and makeup. When she showed me when she finished, I nearly cried. I felt like I looked like a model! I even felt like I had that "airbrushed" look! None of my imperfections were showing. For once in a really long time, I felt like I looked beautiful.
After that, I was on my way to CR and when I got there, I was so relieved because I had finally done it. I made it a year! People couldn't even recognize me! One friend came to CR early from her vacation just so she could be there for me when I got my chip! My dad came too! My mom wanted to be there, but couldn't because she had to travel out of state for a funeral. When I got that chip in my hand, I felt like I had made a huge victory. I got nervous when I went up to get it, but when I went back to my seat, for once, I was really proud of myself. I could tell my dad was proud of me too, and that was a really good feeling too. My next chip will be 18 months sober, and if God could help me get to one year, surely He can help me get to 18 months too!
I'll be writing two more blogs after this that I know of. Oh yes, another reason why I haven't written in a while is because we recently moved! We're still in the same city, but different apartment complex. We are still in the middle of unpacking. Once everything has been unpacked, it will be easier to work on writing more again. God bless!
Last night, May 27, 2019, I got my one year sobriety chip for not cutting! I didn't think I would make it honestly. I self-sabotage so often, especially when I've made any progress in anything, but with the support of friends, family, and Christ's grace, I made it! This is the longest I've gone without cutting in years!
I started cutting when I was 16 - on Valentine's Day. I cut for three days and then when my mom found out; I was put in the hospital. I didn't really cut after that until after I got married. Shortly after I was diagnosed with PTSD, around Thanksgiving of 2010, I had a close friend who had been like an older brother to me. In high school we talked all the time. I really trusted him. He was the first person I told I had Autism when I was diagnosed with it. After I got married though, he stopped talking to me. I didn't understand why. He didn't even want to come to my wedding. I finally asked him why he wasn't talking to me anymore and he answered, "I don't care about this relationship anymore" and blocked me. I have not spoken to him since. I was so devastated by his abandonment, that I started cutting again. It was off and on after that. Then a little while after moving to Tennessee, I met a minister. He was like a father figure to me. I really trusted him too. Things got really bad between us though. He started to emotionally abuse me. I started cutting more during that. I had two suicide attempts in the same year during that as well. My cutting got more and more frequent. It got to the point where I was cutting at least three to four times a week - some times more. My family and husband got really worried about me and we talked to my psychiatrist at the time about it. He told them to just let me cut and eventually I'd grow out of it. I'd be cutting and there was nothing they could do about it. I wanted to stop, I knew it wasn't good, but I didn't really have good coping skills (I'm still learning).
The thing about cutting is when my emotions get really intense, cutting numbs me - instantly. The sting from the blade cutting my skin, the blood dripping, somehow it soothed me. Medically-speaking, cutting releases endorphins. After I cut, I emotionally don't feel anything. I feel numb. When your emotions so often get really intense, it can feel good to not feel anything. This isn't healthy though. I remember talking to a therapist about it and she said, "You won't find any healthy coping skills that numb you like that." It's disappointing for sure. There are risks to cutting though. You can get infections, and if you do it a certain way, you can possibly kill yourself (I know how to not kill myself doing it though).
Anyway, a couple years ago, after we moved to Georgia, we started going to a Celebrate Recovery program at our church at the time. I even got a sponsor. I started going mainly to work on my cutting. While there though, I realized I had other problems too (such as codependency). The longest I've gone without CR was 11 months. Then when I started going to CR, I went 8 months. Then a year ago, we were involved in a major car accident. That was extremely frightening for me. We had been t-boned on my side of the car by an SUV. The fire department had to cut my door off to get me out of the car. I really thought I was going to die. There was glass everywhere and I couldn't breathe. I thought maybe some glass had stabbed me or something. For a little while, I wasn't suicidal after that because I figured if God really wanted me to die, I would've died in that accident. The suicidal feelings did come back though and I've struggled with them daily since.
When the eight month chip came back around, I was scared because I thought, "I blew it right after I got my eight month chip last time, what if it happens again?" I was determined to not let that happen again though, and I had a lot of support to help me along the way too. The closer I got to my one year mark, the more excited yet more anxious I got. Like I said, I have a tendency to self-sabotage. Then the day finally came. I stopped by at a friend from church's house. She's a professional with hair and makeup and she said she would do my hair and makeup for my one year chip. She asked me what I wanted and for my hair and I showed her a picture online. For my makeup I wanted something similar she had done on herself on Facebook. She did an EXCELLENT job with my hair and makeup. When she showed me when she finished, I nearly cried. I felt like I looked like a model! I even felt like I had that "airbrushed" look! None of my imperfections were showing. For once in a really long time, I felt like I looked beautiful.
After that, I was on my way to CR and when I got there, I was so relieved because I had finally done it. I made it a year! People couldn't even recognize me! One friend came to CR early from her vacation just so she could be there for me when I got my chip! My dad came too! My mom wanted to be there, but couldn't because she had to travel out of state for a funeral. When I got that chip in my hand, I felt like I had made a huge victory. I got nervous when I went up to get it, but when I went back to my seat, for once, I was really proud of myself. I could tell my dad was proud of me too, and that was a really good feeling too. My next chip will be 18 months sober, and if God could help me get to one year, surely He can help me get to 18 months too!
I'll be writing two more blogs after this that I know of. Oh yes, another reason why I haven't written in a while is because we recently moved! We're still in the same city, but different apartment complex. We are still in the middle of unpacking. Once everything has been unpacked, it will be easier to work on writing more again. God bless!
Tuesday, January 22, 2019
Nessie
Dearest Nessie,
I remember just like yesterday when we got you as a puppy nearly 17 years ago. It was August, after my 12th birthday. I had always wanted a dog but never could have one. Then one evening mom and dad told Zach and me we were getting you. I was so excited! I had just come home from a summer youth camp. We were living in Virginia Beach then. Mom and I drove down to North Carolina to pick you up. We had all picked your name, Nessie. Since your breed comes from Scotland, we wanted a Scottish name for you. Mom and I got to the house we were picking you up from. You were only a few weeks old. We saw all the different puppies in the house, but when I saw you, I instantly knew you were the one coming home with us. Most of the puppies were sleeping, but you were jumping up and down trying to get our attention. You were the smallest in the litter. I held you in my arms and you fell asleep there. We brought you home and you looked so tiny even in the grass! You were so small that you couldn’t reach your food in your bowl! Aunt Courtney came over to see you too, do you remember her? She brought a toy over for you that was even too big for you! Aunt Courtney spent the night the first night. You cried the entire night! You didn’t really like other dogs, except for Scottie. He was your buddy! Remember when Aunt Courtney and I would take you and Scottie for walks together? You’d go over to Aunt Courtney’s house sometimes and play with Scottie. You had so much fun with him.
It was a great joy to grow up with you. I went through a lot of bullying growing up. I often felt so lonely through that. But you were there for me. I always felt I could relate to animals more than people. You were (and are) the best dog a girl could ask for. I couldn’t have asked for a better dog growing up. I’m so glad you were my first dog. I wish I took you for more walks, I know how much you enjoyed those. You used to be so full of energy and life. When we lived in Virginia Beach, I remember you used to run in figure eights in our big backyard. It was so funny to watch you out there. I remember when you used to challenge the bigger dogs. You were certainly a big dog in a small dog’s body. At Christmas time, mom and dad have a decorative snowman that plays music - you’ve always hated that thing. It’s funny to see you go after it - it’s even got teeth marks in it! Whenever something was out of place, you always noticed it. You would bark at a plastic grocery bag that’d happen to float into our yard until it was gone.
I have so many good memories of you. When Nick and I first started dating, you were very jealous. When we’d sit together on the couch, you’d always sit between us. I’m glad you like him now. I wanted you to be a part of our wedding, but mom and dad said no. I suppose you would’ve been pretty miserable if you had been though; smelling all the food there and not being able to eat any of it.
Now you’re 16.5 years old and tired. It’s difficult to see you sometimes. You’re so tired and physically so weak. You hardly eat - something you used to love to do (must’ve taken after me). You have so many health problems, I know your quality of life isn’t very good anymore. I know mom and dad are doing the best they can to give you a good life. I know soon, I will have to say goodbye to you, and it kills me. I find myself crying often. Even last night, I cried myself to sleep. I don’t want to feel my emotions. I’d rather numb them, but I can’t do that either. I’ve always feared the day I’d lose you, and I know that day is coming soon. When I have to say goodbye to you, I’ll try to be strong for you. When you’re gone, I’ll try to be strong and not give into my dark thoughts of self-harm. You wouldn’t want that I’m sure. I’ll try to be strong, and hope one day I’ll get to see you again. That when the day comes I see Jesus, you’ll come running to me too. I know you can’t read this, and I know you’re a dog, but you’re not just a dog - you’re my dog. You will always be my dog. You’re a good dog, the best! I will miss you so much, and though I forget many things, I will never forget you. Thank you for being my best friend for so long. May we meet again on the other side.
Love,
Allie
It was a great joy to grow up with you. I went through a lot of bullying growing up. I often felt so lonely through that. But you were there for me. I always felt I could relate to animals more than people. You were (and are) the best dog a girl could ask for. I couldn’t have asked for a better dog growing up. I’m so glad you were my first dog. I wish I took you for more walks, I know how much you enjoyed those. You used to be so full of energy and life. When we lived in Virginia Beach, I remember you used to run in figure eights in our big backyard. It was so funny to watch you out there. I remember when you used to challenge the bigger dogs. You were certainly a big dog in a small dog’s body. At Christmas time, mom and dad have a decorative snowman that plays music - you’ve always hated that thing. It’s funny to see you go after it - it’s even got teeth marks in it! Whenever something was out of place, you always noticed it. You would bark at a plastic grocery bag that’d happen to float into our yard until it was gone.
I have so many good memories of you. When Nick and I first started dating, you were very jealous. When we’d sit together on the couch, you’d always sit between us. I’m glad you like him now. I wanted you to be a part of our wedding, but mom and dad said no. I suppose you would’ve been pretty miserable if you had been though; smelling all the food there and not being able to eat any of it.
Now you’re 16.5 years old and tired. It’s difficult to see you sometimes. You’re so tired and physically so weak. You hardly eat - something you used to love to do (must’ve taken after me). You have so many health problems, I know your quality of life isn’t very good anymore. I know mom and dad are doing the best they can to give you a good life. I know soon, I will have to say goodbye to you, and it kills me. I find myself crying often. Even last night, I cried myself to sleep. I don’t want to feel my emotions. I’d rather numb them, but I can’t do that either. I’ve always feared the day I’d lose you, and I know that day is coming soon. When I have to say goodbye to you, I’ll try to be strong for you. When you’re gone, I’ll try to be strong and not give into my dark thoughts of self-harm. You wouldn’t want that I’m sure. I’ll try to be strong, and hope one day I’ll get to see you again. That when the day comes I see Jesus, you’ll come running to me too. I know you can’t read this, and I know you’re a dog, but you’re not just a dog - you’re my dog. You will always be my dog. You’re a good dog, the best! I will miss you so much, and though I forget many things, I will never forget you. Thank you for being my best friend for so long. May we meet again on the other side.
Love,
Allie
Saturday, January 5, 2019
Won't Die Within
I haven't written in a while. Last year sucked, a lot. A friend who was like another mother to me when my husband and I first got married killed herself in the spring. Then I lost a friend who was like a mentor to me (he became borderline abusive towards me). Then I had another close friend, but I got too close. I didn't respect their boundaries. I didn't understand boundaries (I've been going through a book on boundaries though (I've almost finished it)). My mental health has been getting worse. In early November, I had to be hospitalized for a few days. I hadn't made a plan to kill myself, but I was in the process of coming up with one. They put me on Lithium, which pretty much did nothing for me. It didn't make me better, but it didn't make me worse either. I was taken off that and put on Tryleptal. That was a disaster. My BPD episodes were more frequent and more severe. I was having several episodes a day - all day. I'd be extremely emotional, then dissociate, and it'd just keep going back and forth between the two - no middle ground. It was absolutely exhausting. I couldn't keep up with it anymore. I tried calling my psychiatrist, but he didn't return my call in time. The day after Christmas I told my husband that if I went outside I was going to jump off our apartment building. Honestly, if I did, it probably wouldn't kill me. I'd probably have broken bones, though I possibly could become paralyzed. Many times I nearly drank bleach. I probably wouldn't drink enough to kill me, but it would cause some damage to my organs. Anyway, my husband was really scared. He told someone what I had said and next thing I know, the police is at my door. They took me to the hospital (which was a disaster there). I was there for a few days. I got taken off the Tryleptal. I haven't been put on anything as a replacement yet, but my episodes aren't as bad as when I was on it at least.
My mental health seems to keep getting worse the older I get, and no one seems to be able to help me. I've wanted to just disappear since I was a kid. I've been in therapy since I was 12 years old (that's when I was diagnosed with depression). Ever since I started therapy, I've been bouncing between therapists. I keep getting transferred to a different therapist because I'm too much for them. I'm in a lot of therapy throughout the week.
I've been fighting for my life for a long time, and it's tiresome. Sometimes I get to the point that I just don't want to fight anymore. I get tired of fighting in a losing battle. There is a war in my brain and I'm losing. I just throw my hands up and say, "That's it! I'm done! I can't do this anymore!" I've been very nhilistic, and there's just not much I really care about anymore.
Recently I was taking to my mom on the phone and she asked me, "You really want to kill yourself, don't you?" I had a difficult time answering her. You see, I'm an empath. I feel and take on the emotions others have. When she asked me that, I could feel pain coming from her. It made me think, "If I were gone, maybe people really would be sad. I've really been thinking about things and I've decided, I'm going to keep fighting for my life as long as I can. I can't promise I'll make it out of this alive, but I'm not going to give up. I have to keep fighting - if not for myself, I need to at least for the people who care about me. If they haven't given up on me, I need to not give up either. The enemy isn't going to destroy me, as much as he would enjoy doing that. I'm not going down without a fight though. So go on ahead 2019, bring it! I'm putting my boxing gloves on and I'm not tapping out.
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