(no subject)

[runespoor]

I wanted to do a post whining about how my head fucking hurts, and how it’s February so I feel like I’m a depressed blank wallowing around, waiting for the nothingness to suck me in, and how if I could crawl up into a hole until it fucking went away I would, except I know from experience that doesn’t make the depression go away faster, but then I decided not to because:

Ten years ago today I walked out of my father’s house. You see, I spent my teenage years going through each day by consoling myself I’d be dead before I turned 26. It was a “When I’m 25, I’ll kill myself; so I can make it till then!” situation that got me called crazy more than once a week , but it worked. I’m still here.

I’m not off the hook (familial antecedents tell me so), and I know there will be times I’ll still need to get through every day one by one, but I can look back and tell myself: I did it. Even if “it” was just survive, I did it.

I feel lighter when I realize.

Comments

[salinea]

Oh. I did the "I can always kill myself later" thing as a tactic to make me wait longer too. Glad I'm not the only one.

And yes, surviving sometimes is no mean feat. Well done.

Lots of hugs.

[insolentwitch]

Mine was "I'll be dead/kill myself before I graduate anyway". (Even then my psych file was thick.) It's hard to believe I graduated 9 years ago. *hugs* I think it's great that you can pull strength from the pain.