I have been diagnosed with depression. I tried to seek professional help last year since I found myself crying every single night for weeks till it was very hard for me to even breathe. I had two roommates that lived in the same room with me that didn’t have any idea that I was crying next to them. Yes, I was that good at hiding my emotions.
It was hard to carry on, to even force yourself to believe that there will be a light at the end of the tunnel.
It triggered with the heartbreak I got months before that. But it was hurting me so bad that I thought I wouldn’t ever survive from this.
My online therapist (the only one that I could afford) from Betterhelp.com was asking me a bunch of questions. One of them was: “Have you ever had suicidal thoughts?”
It took me back to years before. The only memory I remembered from my childhood home that keeps on repeating in a form of nightmares is this.
Six years ago I waved my Mom goodbye when she packed her things and moved town with her new husband. I told myself that I should be happy knowing someone would love and take care of her. So does my dad who moved out from this house 1.5 years before her to live with his new wife. And so does my brother who moved years before him to study and now is living with his wife.
I was supposed to be happy, as everyone found someone to love and that the storm finally over. The war finally over Ki, now you could breathe. I looked around the house and memories were flashing back to my mind.
Remember when Mom dragged you out from your room and pointed her finger to your dad while saying “Look what your dad done” when she found him cheating again.
It’s over now.
Remember when you were turning out the light in your room pretending to be asleep as you were waiting for your dad back home, scared that there would be another midnight fight in your living room?
It’s over now.
Now you don’t have to worry again that you might answer the phone and some woman looking for your dad.
It’s all over now you are supposed to be glad.
But instead I went inside the house and couldn’t help but feel pain all around my body. Hurt. It hurt so bad. I was extremely sad, hopeless, lonely and angry.
What did I do wrong to deserve this?
I was doing everything I could to be the girl that my parents expected me to be. Good grades, good schools, I was smart and kind and never caused any trouble, I took care of my family, I didn’t even have time to think about relationships.
So tell me what did I do to deserve all of these feelings I have now.
I cried out loud alone that afternoon, putting down all our family pictures, putting them on the floor and lying next to them. I took my sim card out of my phone and threw it away. All I wanted was to just disappear from this painful world. That nothing was scaring me that night. Not even death.
When your own feelings hurt you more than anything in the world. When you choked from your own tears. When you could not even pick yourself up from the floor. When loneliness eats you alive, merciless. Somehow walking away from this world is the only thing that makes sense.
Somehow walking to the kitchen, getting a sharp knife your Mom used to use to cut those chickens for your dinner and bringing it to the living room was a good idea.
Then lying on the floor thinking that dying would be so much better than living. That kill myself was the only option I had.
Cut your wrist already Ki, life it’s not worth it. It doesn’t matter if you are here or not.
Remember when your father got married to his mistress five months after the divorce and didn’t tell you? And you found out from your cousin that you happen to have a boyfriend who lives next to them? It doesn’t matter what you feel. It didn’t matter if you were hurt. It didn’t matter if you said no.
Remember when your brother got married a month after your dad. And mom was crying next to Dad for the whole wedding. And you were dying watching that and went to the bathroom to cry. He knew that 6 months is a very short time to deal with everything. That his little sister was lonely and hurt. Even though he knew you needed a little more time to heal. Just a little bit more. To have him for you, the male figure in your family that you can lean on? But no. Your feelings didn’t matter to him. He wanted to marry his girlfriend no matter what you say. You are the one who needs to stop whining to deal with people’s needs. Because your feelings didn’t matter. You gotta learn to live without feelings. Because it doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter, if you hurt, if you are screaming and begging for them not to leave you. They will still do whatever they want anyway.
Because you don’t matter.
So what’s the point to keep on living anyway? The voices in my mind said.
Go ahead, cut your wrist, be gone. They won’t miss you. You were going to do it anyway 2 years ago when dad screamed at you because you skipped school to look after him after the divorce. You couldn’t resist the temptation to reach that insecticide and drink it right? There is no one in this fucking world that think your feelings matter anyway? So why fight? You lose already.
Of course I was too cowardly to do those things. But the answer to my therapist’s question is yes. I had suicidal thoughts and almost did it years ago.
“What about now?” He asked.
I have this constant imagination in my head that I will dig my own grave somewhere on the cliff next to the beach and bury myself. I don’t know how but I am still trying to figure it out. Or is it easier to drown in my favorite ocean? Scary. But yes these are the imaginations that normally come to my mind whenever something triggers me to just go ahead and do it.
“How often?” My therapist asked
Years ago It happened every second of every minute till I had no energy to carry on the day. Close the curtain, sleep the whole day, and drink my sleeping pills. I had no courage to cut my wrist but I still had the courage to damage my liver and brain with those pills. Because it was so much better when I slept. I wasn’t gone but at least I didn’t have to deal with the world and that’s enough right now.
But honestly now I get better. It only happens maybe 4 times in a month. I don’t know. But I got better than before right? I asked
He ended up giving me a prescription of antidepressant cause he told me I was depressed and whichever trigger could lead me into the worst case.
I didn’t agree with him.
I keep on living. Trying at least. Even though I disappear a lot from this world. I choose to hide all the time.
I decided to isolate myself from the world. I started to build walls from the world. Accepting the fact that I should get used to being alone. Because I am alone. Letting a few people in my life that I thought would know my pain cause they seem to have the same pain. So I won’t get crushed again.
I remember I was sitting with a friend who was telling me about his parents who died within a month. Then I decided to open up with him and told him my story. Then he said sarcastically.
You must feel like you were the saddest girl in the world don’t you?
I didn’t end my life that night but a little part of me died that night in that house. So Yes I was the saddest girl in the whole world. And I have every right to feel that way. No other sadness in the world would beat the feeling I had that night. I understand that there are a lot of worse things that are sadder than that, but that doesn’t mean that what I felt was not valid. Tell me the worst feeling than wanting to be dead so bad because you didn’t know how to stop the invisible bleeding in your heart. Because I had lost more than a family that night. I lost my trust and faith in life.
So you don’t get to judge me that I don’t deserve to be the saddest girl in the world that night.
I was in a very dark place for years that I shut myself down from the world and from people. That the only thing I could think of was to disappear from the world and become dust.
So if you’re watching me now, open my window in the morning. This is me, trying.
If you find me now eating veggies and fruits and enjoying them. This is me, trying.
If you find me now running away to every place in the world even though with tears on my face. This is me, trying.
And if you see me now, letting one by one people into my life and opening up to them. This is me trying.
Or if you find me working my ass off cause I started to have this dream to build a tiny house in Ubud to live next to the rice fields. This is me getting better.
If you find me having my social media back, adding people up, that is me trying.
If you find me having a conversation with a guy that I just met in the coffee shop, that is me trying.
I got lots of ups as I’m trying but I do too have huge step backs every single time someone breaks the walls I built and put another wound. You would find me on the floor again with tears all over my face. Telling myself again.
“I told ya, stop trying”
Every time that feeling comes to me again when someone re-assuring me that my feelings don’t matter. When they thought that I’ve been through damage in my life. When they realized that I’ve been broken before they came. What’s another heart break right? What is another feeling of being ignored and rejected. She got trained well in life. She won’t feel a damn thing. She survived worse than this. She doesn’t bleed. She won’t mind.
And that’s when I want nothing else than to disappear all over again.
Cause I’m getting tired of screaming on top of my lungs
Give me a reason to believe in that I’m not just wasting my time here