I’ve been accused of being really psycho the past two months. I’m not sure why. My best guess is, it has to do with the fact I’ve grown increasingly suicidal the past 2 months. I’ve said I’m not, I don’t like admitting I am. I don’t like the freaking out that comes with. Lucky for me my husband isn’t one to react to those words, so I guess it’s only the internet’s reaction I have to deal with.
The fact is, over the past 2 months, if not longer, I’ve grown increasingly suicidal to the point that I now have a plan. I don’t know that it’s a good one. I don’t know that it would work, but it’s a plan none the less.
Will I act on the plan? Probably not. Why? What I’m about to say makes me at first a good mother, and then a horrible one once the reality of what I’m about to say sinks in.
I can’t kill myself because I have two kids depending on me. Which in a way causes me to resent them. I don’t want to resent them. I’d be happier not resenting them. I’d be a better person for not resenting them.
But as the past few months have gone by and I’ve grown more suicidal, my resentment of my children has grown. And now that I have a plan, I can barely stand to be in the same room with them.
Then I start looking at the fact that I’m abusive and it makes me hope that my beautiful children would be better off without me.
And who, dear internet, can I talk to about all this? Who has the patience to see me through this to the other side? Another side where I love my kids and would never dream of hurting them. A side where I don’t resent them, and instead enjoy them. There is another side to me and I am searching for it.
The problem is, I currently hardly have the motivation to take a shower, and indeed haven’t in 4 or 5 days. So the motivation to do anything but lie there and attempt to smother myself with my pillow (doesn’t work, the panic kicks in when it’s finally working) is about as much motivation that I can come up with.
On another note, my husband has accused me of being obsessed with BPD. And to prove I’m not I’m suppose to step away from this blog. I have made a decision. If I am indeed obsessed, and who am I of sound mind to judge that, then at least I’m striving to help someone with my obsession. I’m striving to get solid information out there as to what this illness is about. And if that makes me obsessed, then I see obsessed as a good thing.
Besides, it keeps me going. I don’t have motivation to eat, but something at least has my attention. Verses withering away in bed.