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My Last Straw #Depression #Selfish #Heartbroken #Selfharm #Suicide
My Last Straw
So recently I’d finally confided in my husband about the black hole that I’m stuck in. The feelings of despair and desperation. Last night I brought up how I haven’t had a holiday since 2018 and how badly I need to get away. I need and physical and mental break and a refresh from everything. It quickly turned into an argument because he recently had a weeks holiday and has another planned for January..I wasn’t there last time and won’t be in January either and says he doesn’t need one. I however feel desperate for a holiday and have expressed it often. I have explained to him how much it will help with the current state of my mental health. He reckons it won’t do anything. Anyway argument increased and I’m getting called a c**t and told he doesn’t want to go away with me because “I’m a fucken idiot”. That absolutely crushed me. Like really crushed me. It hurt so bad! That wasn’t even the worst of it. He continued to shit talk my mental health and then told me I should “go on a permanent holiday” LIKE WHO SAYS THAT!!!!
Who the fuck says that to someone who is in mental turmoil. I went to my room, utterly shocked to my core that he would say that to me. There’s been a lot of suicide in my immediate family so I’m vulnerable to it. I’ve been a self harmer and still fight that battle. As I’m sitting alone in my room on my bed replaying in my mind what the hell had just happened and what the hell he had just said to me. I sat there and thought about maybe I should “go on a permanent holiday” . I cried and thought about it. Every urge and desire trying desperately to succeed and me trying desperately to overpower those thoughts. I did a mental count of all the pills I have at my disposal and how easy it would be just to swallow them all and how easily my pain would be over. I then sat and played scenarios over in my head and visualising each of my children’s reactions to being told that I’m gone…I’m dead. That made me sad and that then made me angry. So fucking angry that he would say that to me and that I would have my mental health thrown in my face and so fucking angry at the thought of the suffering my kids would feel for the rest of their lives. I found the strength through that so not do anything to hurt myself or worse. I then went and told him to give me 45mins and I would be gone, I’d be on that “permanent holiday” he told me to “ go on”
. I honestly was curious to see if he would come in to check on me within those 45mins. To see if I had done something and to more importantly make sure that I hadn’t and wouldn’t do something. So I waited that 45minutes….alone. He never came to check on me. Not even once. So what if I had taken all those pills?…I would’ve been dead with no chance of revival. No chance at life. I think I’m more devastated about that part of it all. He just did not give a single fuck. I’m at a loss. I’m hurt. I feel crushed and my heart feels broken…
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