Mar 052017
 

I’m all alone, when the sun, goes down
What I wouldn’t give, to have someone around
The nights are endless, and dreams, are few
But when they come, well they never come true
And so it goes
No one even knows, the pain behind the smile
How all the while I’m cryin’
SAVE ME…..SOMEONE SAVE ME
SAVE ME…..SOMEONE SAVE ME
‘CAUSE I’VE BEEN SAVIN’ MYSELF FOR HER TOO LONG’
IT’S TIME I’M MOVIN’ ON
Won’t you save me?
Too many memories in this, old town
My face turned up to meet the rain..the rain that’s fallin’ down
Let it come
And so it goes
That no one even knows, the pain behind the smile
How all the while I’m dyin’
SAVE ME…..SOMEONE SAVE ME
SAVE ME…..SOMEONE SAVE ME
‘CAUSE I’VE BEEN SAVIN’ MYSELF FOR HER TOO LONG’
IT’S TIME I’M MOVIN’ ON
Won’t you save me?
Are you gonna be the one to make it right, or am I only dreamin’
Baby am I dreamin’?……Am I dreamin’?
No one even knows, the pain behind the smile
Whoooooh…baby, baby, baby, baby-they don’t know
They don’t know…that I’m cryin’ all the while
All the while
Somebody save me….save me
Save me……somebody save me (Mm Mm)
Save me…..save me
Save me…….someone save me
‘Cause I’ve been saving myself for her too long
It’s time I’m movin’ on
Won’t you save me….save me
Can’t you see…..that I’ve been lonely?

 

This weekend was a crazy one, lots of random things happened, and the one I least expected was seeing a message on Facebook saying that a girl I had talked to the night before was in ICU and wasn’t likely to make it, followed quickly by the announcement of her death.

I guess I was one of the last to talk to her as her brother reached out to me, which I am grateful for, unfortunately, I couldn’t tell him she was in a bad state the night before or that she seemed to be depressed or in a frame of mind that would make me think that our conversation was one that would be our last.

We spoke about how we were doing, mentally. She had done some amazing things in the past year, leaving her husband and other toxic relationships, delivering a healthy baby (her third child), getting a job and being the caregiver and breadwinner and even trying to reconnect with family while seemingly getting a hold of her own demons. She lost around 50lbs and looked amazing. Her frown had turned to a smile and her cynicism had for the most part became a sort of comic relief rather than what appeared to be a distress call.

So, what went wrong?

The pain behind the smile.

That’s what went wrong.

We had spoke about how being happy was a frightening thing because when you deal with mental health issues there is often a crash after a bout of happiness. She said “it’s like you’re jinxing yourself”. She was dead about 18 hours later.

After talking to me her posts on Facebook stopped. She was a chronic poster but I thought nothing of it since I don’t use Facebook that often for searching through posts. I only noticed this afterwards.

I have spent the last 30ish hours wondering if our chat was her being happy because she had made the decision to end her life and felt free for the first time. Did she talk to me that night because she was in her own way saying goodbye?

I’ve known far too many people who have committed suicide. I’ve attempted it many times myself, but I have never been among the last to speak to someone before their demise. I can’t honestly say how I feel, shaken is about the only word that comes to mind.

At first, I was worried about her three sweet babies, what will happen to them? Who has them? Did they find her? What did they see? Will the older two remember her?

Then I felt a sadness within myself, not because she was gone, but because I will be missing out on having someone around who often understood the darker side. Who was eager to seek the Lord and often confused by it during times of struggle.

A quote I have on my Facebook talks about how when one commits suicide it is really the first time that they have taken hold of control of their lives. After experiencing suicides through my whole life, I still believe that.

“If I commit suicide, it will not be to destroy myself but to put myself back together again. Suicide will be for me only one means of violently reconquering myself, of brutally invading my being, of anticipating the unpredictable approaches of God. By suicide, I reintroduce my design in nature, I shall for the first time give things the shape of my will. ”
~Antonin Artaud~

Unfortunately, it’s a painful ending to those of us left to figure out the pieces, never mind pick them up. Then again, there never really is a good time to die, whether your 102 or 22… There really, never is “unfinished business.”

Sometimes, our stories become more powerful when we have a powerful departure from this earth into our heavenly realm. I believe that will be the truth for this dear lady. Because, “The dead are not lost to us. They speak to us everyday” -unknown

Nov 072015
 

I am simply tired this fall. Emotionally. I don’t know how to rest the soul and stop the ever growing soul-holes.

It is like I finally fill in a hole and trust and then Satan comes and pokes a few more.

It is easy to feel like Job, like God has handed me to Satan just so he can test my faith, see if I will break.

Yet, I wonder how much more shattered I can be. Is Satan aiming for powdered glass? Maybe turning me back into the dust from which I came –dust in the wind.

I wish I could fix everyone and everything. Yet, I am falling fast and hard and I don’t even know how to fix myself.

The scars on my arms ache to be cracked open for the release that comes when the blood flows and yet –I don’t want Jon to be disappointed in me. No, scratch that, I don’t want to break this 2 year chain and disappoint myself, which doesn’t stop the scars from calling my name and begging for a home –a place of prominence on sin-laden flesh.

Loneliness creeps in like the dark-blankets the falls evening sky. Everything has changed. Everything stays the same. In my own pain/sorrow I still beg to die.

Why?

I see soo many who just want another day. Another year. Yet here I am wasting the time I do have out of fear, out of loss, out of…

I wish I wanted to live and I wish I took advantage of every moment and I just don’t know how. And part of me doesn’t want to know because if I learn then I have to figure out a way to move on and moving on means I might forget and I never want to forget because that will always bring me back to pain, as sure as the moon pulls in the oceans tide the pain will roll in on a wave.

Maybe Satan/evil lives in me and we are glued together –one in the same.

I blankly stare at the download on my computer screen and know I’ve been waiting hours for it to finish and there are still 80+ minutes left. For a download that probably won’t even work.

The blueberry wax melt smelling good and also a lot like wax. I am candle spoiled –if that’s a thing. Something about the flicking light, the melted aroma and the warmth that petite flame ignites.

I am tired. Worn. Weary.

Lord, help me, please…

Teach me, and I will be silent; make me understand how I have gone astray
~ Job 6:24~

Oct 202015
 

Sometimes I wonder why my heart feels shattered but then I read your words and I know
I ask myself what I did wrong hoping that one day I’ll be good enough for my dreams to grow
The birds whistle regardless of whether or not they are free
Envious, I cry to myself thinking why can’t their songs belong to me?
Who am I in this life or the next when I am perplexed by the dangers of this awful hex…
Looking into the souls of those I once loved
I realize I am trapped being pushed and shoved
The chains are still on my ankles and wrists
Even the days where they are nothing more than a phantom mist
I am held firmly stuck in the past always succeeding yet coming in last
Giving more of myself then I knew I had, can giving of yourself turn out bad?
Licking the dryness of my weathered lips reminds me of the hands that scolded me while resting on hips
Smiling because I see her once again I know I am safe from myself yet another time
Playing these games that are supposed to be life, I can’t help but wonder which life is mine
Battered and bruised and down on my knees another day has passed with me unsuccessfully begging please
It doesn’t take a fist to bruise my soul
It doesn’t take dirt to bury me in a shallow hole
Living is pain and I often can’t breathe
No matter how hard I try God won’t let me leave.

Oct 032015
 

The depression weighed heavy on my chest, panic setting in and I wasn’t able to breathe. I held the razor tight in my right hand as it slipped over and over and over across the flesh of my left forearm and wrist. Blood drip-dripping onto the bandage already laid out.

Fog in my brain covering everything, every positive emotion and separating me from God. The words of those who cared bouncing off of me like I had a force field around me that only accepted negativity and bounced away love.

Trapped in my own head. Blaming myself for the miscarriages and a billion other things. Feeling worthless enough to write in my own blood, scrawled across the wall, “God won’t even take me back”. Part of me knew that this suicide attempt wasn’t going to be successful. I knew God wasn’t taking me home. I was enraged at Him. I remember saying “if this is eternal life than I don’t want it!!”


I took rat poison, sleeping pills, medication to prevent nausea and chased it all with a bottle of rye. I meant business. I really wanted to die.

I needed the pain to end and that was the only thing I could focus on. The ONLY THING.

I remember my mom’s words echoing in my head when they found me “am I that bad of a mother…?” No mom, you aren’t…. I am just in that much pain inside and I don’t know how to let it out. I am scared to live, afraid to die and living in a world where the only constant is hurt. I didn’t know how to tell her that though. I didn’t know how to tell myself that either.

A few weeks later I sat there, in my own hell. All I remember is a nurse, Trevor, holding me down and sedating me. I was told the next day that I was ripping my hair out claiming bugs were in me and that I was a murderer for my lost babies.

The Lord of Life is My Shepherd

It was then that I finally got real help. Life began to turn up from there. Medications help, I sought out God and somewhere along the way through therapies and friendship I managed to realize that I was going to be okay –even when I feel anything but. The pain still comes, it overwhelms but it passes and I can be happy the next day. I pull near to God, I still take my meds. I pray that I never fall into that pit again.

I know a lot of people have had suicide attempts or lost someone from suicide. It is NOT your fault. It is NOT their fault either. You cannot rationalize with an irrational and sick mind. People who hurt deep down are experts at hiding that pain and wearing a smile bright, cracking jokes and laughing. We are chameleons who blend right in, and then when we are alone the darkness creeps in.

My family has a long history of suicides, on both sides, and I know firsthand the damage it does to the survivors and how it feels to be the one teetering on the edge. I had no intention of writing about this tonight, but it’s what flowed out. The fall is the time of year in which I have had all of my miscarriages so it is easy for me to get down. I am not depressed or suicidal right now, only thinking back on years past and praising the Lord for the medications and the therapists who have helped me overcome those rough years of my life. Without Him, I wouldn’t be. Had He answered my prayer and called me Home my children wouldn’t have a mother and my mother wouldn’t have a daughter.

If you feel depressed or down or have had these thoughts seek help, you may feel broken, but there is glue to put you back together again! God has this, God has YOU!

Aug 272015
 



Weak as I am the emotions run strong, often ruling with an iron fist that I can’t evade, escape.
Maybe I don’t want to. Held here by the fear of the past even though handing it to God sounds easy.
Who are you? Who am I? What am I supposed to do?
Forgiving those who’ve trespassed against me, and trusting the world are two different things.
All life is bigger, bigger than you, and I said too much.
And that’s me in the corner losing my religion –while growing my faith.
‘Here I am before you, falling in love and seeking Your truth
Knowing that Your perfect grace has brought me to this place
Because of You I freely live, my life to You, oh God, I give
So I stand before you God
I lift my voice because You set me free
So I shout out your name, from the rooftops I proclaim – I am Yours, I am Yours!’
That’s me in the corner. Sorry I am bad. Please don’t go away.
Doubts dart frantically through the broken night’s sky.
Dream. Cheat. You let me down. Six feet underground. I might as well.
Have a little fun. Do all the things you do. Inspire. Carry on. Have you ever?
Breaking things we can’t repair. None of us will take the blame.
Will the running river reflect me as the shadow of death or will the light hidden deep in my soul shine bright?
Paradise.
Old. Grandmotherly, mischievous, the undead. Shadows follow everywhere I go. Feelings of unease, displeased. How do I know?
The Father, Son and Holy Ghost.
Casting demons out and running the Legion over the edge.
Why pick on me? My friends? Please don’t take him even though you can.
The Northern Lights dancing in the darkened evening sky
Domed around me begging me to dance with them in return.
And like every day, God paints the sky just for me.
One with the earth, the heavens and everything between.

May 112015
 

Source: mamaborderline

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