It’s Broken, I don’t want to play.

“I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m just not very good at this keeping in contact with people stuff…”

That’s the line, that’s the phrase that has broken me today. If it were a friend I could understand, I am also terrible at contact for the same reason, our upbringing showed us we didn’t need family, to the point that we now don’t understand it, yet we crave it.
He’s not good at communication but has a partner for as long as he’s been missing from my life. Mum has dad, my sister has her family, my grandma has her other grandchildren, my other side of the family I don’t think ever really accepted I existed.

I slipped through the cracks.

Who am I? Was I meant to be? You swore you wanted a boy & a girl… The girl being invisible…? Maybe it was just a childish dream that once true you regret, like getting a dog when you are an avid traveller…  It’s just cruel.

As time went on the phone calls grew further apart, the letters less, the christmas and birthday cards non existant… Did I cease to exist and somebody forgot to tell me?
I can’t completely blame them, mine ceased to exist to… But how to you reach out when moving your fingers over paper could burn them with the pain you feel? When you can’t lie like the rest, can’t smile and put on a show…? Should I smile as I tell you how much I want to slit my wrists? Let you laugh back as the blood drips, still not taking me seriously..?

I feel like a ghost, maybe I am one, that’s why I connect with so little people… Only those with the don. My mum sure looks through me as I pour my heart out. I wonder what happened to her, what made her so cold… Mechanical hugs that automatically count down the miliseconds and ring a buzzer to let go and his smile, the one practiced on clients is flashed at me as I leave, lucky me, such a wonderful family they say, they are wonderful people I say, smiling softly, my mind finishing the phrase, count your lucky stars they weren’t your parents…

Now don’t get my wrong, the guilt as I write this is burning my lungs, my breathing getting harder with every word, will I suffocate on the truth? My truth, as it is nobody elses, nobody else lived through it, nobody has seen anything, nothing every happened, I was always a “strange child”. Difficult, argumentative, told she wasn’t liked by her own mother… Told by her father that she didn’t deserve any friends, that she was a horrible person, whilst he smiled that sarcastic grin and another piece of that child died.

The weight on my shoulders, the word family the heaviest of all. It breaks me as it rains down on me, ever December alone, every birthday they forget, every day that passes is like a drop of water on the branch of a tree, the weight unnoticeable until all of sudden it’s too much and the branch bends… Sometimes it breaks…

If I died would they notice?

I truly ask myself this, this is a completely serious question in my mind? Would they take time off work to mourn me, to ask themselves who left them, would they remember who I am?

Who Am I, I asked her… Her lip trembled, she replied the same answers as a stranger would… This woman that birthed me… The one that promised to try harder and hasn’t called since.
I could feel the relief as she backed away in the car park, her sigh of finally releasing me again after not even a whole 24 hours together…

It’s not her fault, it’s nobodies. And I am nobody.

Would me dying finally bring them all together, create the family I’ve always wanted? Irony sweet irony.

They want to be close to their grandaughter… They ignored their children but want to make it right with her. You’re leaving it too late, you need to try harder, if you thought that the love you gave us will be enough, she won’t even feel the dust of it.
My childhood was a gentle breeze of something that felt like care mixed with the sour smell of abandonment, of busy parents and sad children.

They tried their best, they thought money would be important, time was just a word.
Years of working to the bone to survive, their pain etched on her face as she explained her half, as I listened, understanding every word, caring, her pain from this huge misunderstanding, my whole life a misunderstanding. Her eyes glazed as I told her I was raped by a boyfriend, I could see her mind working, wondering if I was lying, if I had misjudged it, not an inch of pain, no feeling of anger. Her mother instinct dormant since I can remember. My dream mother bear, the protection I craved cracking, my last hope of understanding her slipping away with the tears on my face, my emotions drying alongside them on the sheets. What was I to feel now?

I want a reclamation form, I want a redo, I want someone to explain to me how this can happen and nobody notice.

And finally we have arrived, once again to Platform 24 at Suicide Central, thank you for riding again miss Lucy, we hope you enjoy your timeless ticket, we recommend staying in memory lane for an extra special painful night and eat at the regret diner so you throw up later from crying into your milkshake of emotions.

Tomorrow is another day.

Stop being dramatic, I’ll be here, I have a train to catch. Now wave and smile as if you actually cared, even wave as if you’ll really miss me, that’s it.

Now my view is here, in public, where your image is more important than your daughter, the shame, oh the shame, oh the guilt… Oh the pain, oh those glances, it will all begin but I’m not scared anymore. Your wrath may burn but my skin are scales and the worst that can happen is that I die and I still end up winning so let the fire begin, let the pain reign, let it crackle and destroy the bridges, let happen what must.
Don’t say I didn’t try, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

It’s time.

“When you feel suicidal, the only rule is that you come to your next sesion with me and try and make sense of it with me, if it can’t be fixed, throw yourself off the ledge, if it can be fixed, we will, but you have to wait, promise me.”

Damn me and those stupid promises that I keep.
Must be because nobody ever kept one with me that they mean so much when they are just simple words. Just simple words… Blown away by the air.

But I promise Carlos.

 

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Face to words…

So I have now started a youtube account dedicated to mental health and my wonderful rollercoaster.
I may only post once a year, maybe once a day, who knows, but if you’d like to put a face to my words, feel free to come and visit me ❤

 

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Hugs to you all out there, will be writing again soon,

Love, Lucy.

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCn5Uspm5mVPJTK5KBk7nvrA/videos?view_as=subscriber

To all the people who agree with this post:
20882895_1960612827557975_4488751665222036085_nI have been fighting suicide for as long as I can remember and at one point these posts worked, the guilt worked. Now it just plain pisses me the fuck off.

What about the people who can’t afford help? Government help at least here in Spain is awful, their professionals push you further over the edge after months or years of waiting for help, that is absolutely crushing. Private professionals cost a lot of money most of us can’t afford, sometimes even if you can afford them, it just doesn’t work for you, everyone is different. Now what about the ones who’s family don’t give a shit and don’t make time for them even when they cry out for help, what about the people who’s friends aren’t there on those dark nights because they are busy or have their own shit? Or people that have nobody? And the ones that can’t work because their illness has got that bad so they are just stuck there hanging with no money? Are you going to pay their bills? Are you going to be there for them every single god damn time they need help? Because I haven’t found anyone strong enough yet to deal with what I live with. I live on meds that give me side affects that you would never wish to have to be able to lead a “half normal life” which doesn’t even fucking reach that level and my physical pain is stuff out of nightmares. Living every day in physical and mental pain on your own dealing with this on top of normal daily stress as people don’t take you seriously and still expect everything from you and you say we are selfish for wanting out?
Fuck that, you are the selfish ones for wanting us to stay, to endure this in hope that woweeee we can have one good day out of a month, one week maybe sometimes is an okay one, just so you can feel good and say “I saved them from suicide”, no, you forced them to live a life that you would never want for yourself and have no idea how shit that feels. We are here not to hurt you but in the process we get burned constantly for being a burden and being “hard work” or “complicated”, but if we leave we are cowards, we are selfish, we are cruel.

Now for the people that are now obviously going to say people die everyday from illnesses and want to live, I’m so sorry, we want to live too but unlike a broken leg, unlike a head injury, a car accident because you drunk drove, unlike a stab wound when you decided to pick a fight, we don’t get helped in the ER, we get told to go away, we get forgotten, we get made fun of and made into memes and turned into someone labeled as lazy and told to “snap out of it”. Snap out of that broken leg dude, it’s just a bone, come on, you can crawl… You’d never say that. Ever. Yet we get told that every single freaking day.

Fuck that, I’m so sorry about people that get taken before their time but also people should have the right to decide when they want to die without judgement. You can put an animal down in dignity because it’s “humane” but humans get locked away and drugged and abused de trying to do what they have decided is best, not just for themselves but for the people around them.
Fuck that, people that commit suicide are not selfish, we can’t expect you guys to be here for us, to spend your whole lives taking care of us and we are freeing you of that as WE NEED THAT and nobody can give it to us. It’s not fair on us and it’s not fair on you.

So if your friend is seriously suicidal, not just a phase, but has been through the doctors appointments, has tried their freaking hardest and still wants to do it, respect them and enjoy every moment by their side.

You don’t feel their pain, you can’t hear those voices, don’t judge.

What about what about angels…?

Change has never daunted me; it’s actually been the opposite, making my blood pump, my heart race, the change, the challenge…
But there are things that freeze me; I feel the cold wrap itself around my veins, my bones crumbling with sadness.
Have you ever loved someone?
Of course you have, what a silly question.
But have you ever felt the end at the beginning? When all is beautiful and new and you haven’t yet been able to memorise every curve of their smile, their body language still only on a medium level but advancing fast… The beautiful learning process of understanding a new human life… Have you ever thought how complex that is? How absolutely beautiful it is that we can do that?
Connect to a point of a glance can say a million words… A hand in yours can keep you safe…
This intricate, careful structure we nurture and watch flourish or die…
But all this takes time… Patience.

Have you ever seen it all played in your eyes the second you set your eyes on that person?
Knowing they will mean so much to you that you just can’t resist reaching out to them but instantly knowing they aren’t meant to be yours. Knowing they are perfect for you but the timing isn’t right, something whispers it, as if you weren’t meant to see them, it was a surprise, a secret, an early Christmas present maybe you were never meant to receive, maybe it was destined to be lost in the mail, stolen, kept out of anger…

There are people like those presents… People that you have for only a small amount of time, stolen time, time you seize at and grasp at, beg for the clock to stop, just one more minute, please! But you know you have to release them… Like a beautiful butterfly caught in a jar by a child, you know it belongs in the wild… It deserves to stretch its wings and fly, for others to admire its grace, it’s resilient colour and so delicately you open the jar… You hope it decides to stay, but slowly it feels the breeze and with it, it goes.

Maybe you’ll see it again; maybe it will cross your path once more to stay, in another form, another life, another day… Maybe you’ll never see it again but you’ll never forget the time you had the most beautiful creature in your hand, that day will fill your heart forever with a mixture of awe and bitter sadness.

Some people are those butterflies.
The hard part is deciding whether it’s worth grasping every second knowing the clock’s on a count down or lowering your head and letting them pass, pretending not to see them, your eyes knowing too much showing tears nobody understands.

Sometimes I wish I was strong enough to resist, sometimes I wish I was a coward…
But I can’t… And so it starts.

“What are you reading?”
She asks, noticing the book gripped in the boys hand as if it were a secret, the pain in his eyes swiftly hidden by a mask and smile.
She watched him, remembering their story, a story yet to be told but as old as time. For he was a butterfly, with a broken wing and colours determined to be hidden, only making them, for her, the brightest object in her sight.

Destiny she knew, would take him, as she had others, this was only a trailer, only a taste of the batter yet to be put in the oven and deemed edible…
Raw. That’s what he was. Raw and broken and broken she was left when she pulled off her own wing to fix his, knowing his flight was much more important than hers.

Set him free, the wind whispered… So she cried, she trembled and she fell apart, so the pieces of him in her could fly back to him, full of love, the purest kind.

Set them free, said the world, time and time again.
Knowing fight was futile against destiny she fell to her knees…
When oh when would she stop losing pieces of herself to others? She wondered how much there was left to leave her…

Only the darkness stayed.
Maybe she was born to be consumed by the darkness, born in the night, she’d turn slowly into a part of it, full of stars, all the good parts of her sewn into souls she’d freed.

She looked at him and wondered, was he her last butterfly?
If she fixed him could she drift away?
Would peace come with his pain?

Her smile was that of an innocent girl, her soul of an ancient creature.
Some aren’t made for this world, it whispered; you’re only here to show them that both hell and heaven are on earth, remember that.

Now decide… Will you be his saviour or shall you watch him burn?

We all have that power.

And so she held out her hand and absorbed the flames from his soul in an embrace, tears running down his face, confusion scaring him, loving her, not realising soon he would hate her for leaving.

And there in the sea it all started and there in the sea it would all end.

…And it’s Not Even Halloween Yet.

I can feel it coming.

You’d think it’s better knowing somethings going to happen before it does… You’d think so.

But what about when it’s something you’re helpless to avoid?

Something that will destroy you..?

Would you want to know?

It hit me this morning.

It hit hard.

It’s like a storm, first comes the calm, that gentle cold breeze that makes you pull your coat in a little tighter, like the last day of autumn, you feel tired, it’s your minds monday state, words hit harder, you can feel pain just a little more, hardly enough to tell the diference unless you’re a pro like me…

Then the pounding starts… Your body feels heavy as if you were carrying lead in your skin, dreamless sleep ceases to exist and you awake as if you’ve travelled instead of sleeping, being pulled through time zones with no place to rest your head. Your eyes now have a purplish tint around them, the blue turns grey, people start to look at you funny, asking if you’re ill, if it’s contagious…You apply double makeup to hide it and make them happy to work with you again (how simple) but you know that tomorrow there’ll be no saving yourself from the black eyes that could have been made by angry fists yet are only there as a reminder from your body that it’s nearly time and there’s no going back now, as if there ever was, as if saving yourself from it was ever an option.

You tell yourself it’s a migraine, nothing more, the dizziness will pass, the pain will move on to another part of your body, there’s no mercy here.
Cry, there’s no one that can help you.

Today the anger starts to set in, yesterday it was just irritation, your anxiety on edge but it you could handle it, today full blown fury is there, just under the skin, hidden inbetween your bunched up muscles, tight with stress… Your whole body is wired and exhausted at the same time. Like a snowball effect, once started on a roll it will create a disaster you have no strength to clean up. It will destroy you, again.

Today’s delight was crippling pain creeping in from the toes to the hips as you try to walk home. You try to tell yourself it’s okay, you know this pain, just walk slow, stop every 5  steps, stretch, yeah, that should help… 5 steps… Stop and repeat… The burning sensation pulling you to the ground, people start to stare as you hobble home, feet making  slapping sound as your feet refuse to bend and cooperate.

The pressure’s too much, you’re about to blow, your partner is powerless and takes his anger out on the dog, withdrawing into his world which makes your heart ache, it’s  all your fault… Or is it? He doesn’t help, or does he? Do you trust him? Is he driving me mad or am I already there? You can no longer trust your insticts, you can’t distinguish between his faults and yours, there’s only anger, a burning fire blinding you, making you forget how much you love eachother, how much you care… What’s real? Is anything?

You rest your legs and swollen feet and your back suddenly decides it doesn’t want to lie down, the neck sending shooting pain through her head making it impossible to relax…

You can’t even tell her friends anymore as they just say they are excuses and they slowly disappear and along with them, your support. They don’t understand how much you wish it was that simple. They don’t know how much you needed them, to keep you aflote, to help you survive when your body is hellbent in destroying you.

The doctors fob you off with tablets and insults “you’re just fat, it’s just hormones…” and your mind is breaking. Go away, find courage, go back, leave again, more broken than the last time…

Every day gets longer and harder…

And still she fights, even knowing that she’s in the descent now, the black dog has nearly arrived. It feels like it should be raining yet there’s the sun, blinding her and forcing her to pull away from the window. The cruelty of being a prisoner in your own body.

It’s here again… It’s only been weeks since you started feeling like a person again yet it’s back to claim more of you, how much more do you have left to give? How long until you can call it a day and not be blamed..? How much more does the world expect you to do with no help, like a school project, is it half done, have you been tested enough? Have you passed..? You feel broken, knowing less now than you did when it all started…

All I know is it hurts. Everything hurts, every day.

And now you know too.

I know my enemy. I know when it’s coming and still I’m unarmed, I’m unable to save myself. Oh I know my enemy, my enemy is me.

 

Countdown.

I really don’t know how much longer I can do this.

I used to brush it off, it was just a bad moment, it would pass.
That’s what people must think when they shout in the snow covered mountains… Just a moment of insanity and an avalanche was born, they suffocated.
I’m suffocating now, with forced normality, forced calm.

The world seems to grate a lot harder on me than on others, I used to think I was strong, I’m not anymore.
Like a rock turned to sand over time by the gentle caress of waves, their dancing foam slowly washing away everything that made me, me, just like the rock, I can’t recognize myself in this sand I’ve become.
Made of glass and bone, swept along, unable to be what I was destined to, waking up is painful now, just knowing I have a whole new day ahead of me, I can’t face it.
I’ve alienated all of those around me, been called crazy, a monster, maybe they’re right, I don’t know anymore, I don’t know me.

They tell me I’m hurting them but they don’t want me to leave yet it hurts so much to stay.
Is is more selfish of me to want to leave or of them to want to force me to stay?

I can hardly breathe, I wish I wasn’t anymore. I wish it would just stop, go dark and the pain would turn into numbness, unaware, I’d be free and freedom sounds like the loveliest thing.

The pacive part of me is turning to active, each time there are less reasons to stay, more to go. All I do is hurt people, wouldn’t it be better to hurt them in one go and then them never suffer me again?
Surely it would be preferable to a lifetime of annoyance, leaning my weight on them.
Surely they know nothing when they ask me to stay, why say it’s for them when they earlier said I only hurt them?

Do they only want me to stay to liberate themselves of guilt? The “I could have helped her, I should have…” the “whys” and “what ifs…” for the rest of their lives…?

I’ve began to think that way, each time more and more.

I have so much to give you world but my time is running out, I can feel it.

I feel myself slipping, my hands reaching for the medicine drawer, each time I care less the dosis I take, I only waver thinking of the consecuences if I fail.

How absurd is it that for trying and failing to take your own life you will be sentenced to jail… ? Your body in shreds along with your mind and all they think of is punishing you, instead of trying to give you help long ago needed. The world is fucked up, surely it isn’t just me that feels it, that can’t stand it… I can’t be alone but no matter how much I scream out, it seems to be in vain, for loving ears turn deaf to things they aren’t ready to deal with.

My throat is sore for begging, I don’t want to do this, I want help, I’ve spent years od my short life asking for it, screaming for it, how can nobody listen?

It terrifies me to contemplate the amount of people that have felt this way, lost in the system, ignored by the world for not being like them, silenced by the air that gave them life. All my life I’ve wanted to help them and now I can’t even help myself.

I beg of you, if you really love me, if anyone really cares,
take my hand, take me to a doctor, someone who will listen, I’ll go, I have a story to tell, I need to tell or surely it will kill me.

I won’t fight you, you claim to want me to stay, we’re on the same side, I’m fighting  for this too.

I always thought I could save myself but how can I save myself from…me?

I’m losing a battle that will determine the outcome of a war, don’t let me lose.

Please, somebody hear me.