Suicidal Ideation

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Hey, I’m Alyssa.

I’m 21, and I’ve been through some straight-up hell.

A couple years ago, I was trapped in a nightmare—captivity and a robbery that tore my world apart. It’s the kind of trauma that sticks to your bones and messes with your head every damn day.

Right now, I’m stuck in the middle of a court case that’s dredging all that up again. It’s brutal. Some days, I’m angry as hell. Other days, I’m so exhausted I can barely get out of bed. And sometimes, I spiral into places I don’t want to go.

I’ve also had to be the rock for people around me, even when I’m breaking inside. It’s fucked up and unfair, but here I am.

I’m putting this out there because I need to find others who get how dark and lonely this fight can feel. I want to know how you survive the moments when the past grabs hold tight and won’t let go. How do you keep going when the legal stuff and all the memories hit you like a punch in the gut?

If you’re here, if you’ve been through hell too, I want to hear from you. Because right now, just knowing I’m not alone feels like the only thing keeping me from completely losing it. #Newfriends

I had a meltdown because of all of this negativity from my mother, anxiety and all. It was too much. I stayed in my closet + blanket from 9:30am to 1:10pm. The nurses were looking for me and they were really anxious and worried but I couldn't unhide. I couldn't press the button to call the nurses. I just hid as I always do... I didn't even ate..

One of the nurses were really "heartbroken" I think because he tried to befriend me the past few days..

I just keep thinking what if my mother is the one in the truth ? What if I'm imagining everything? What if I just want to draw attention to me ?

#MentalHealth #AutismSpectrumDisorder #Autism #Anxiety #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #PanicAttacks #MajorDepressiveDisorder #Depression #PanicAttack #EatingDisorder #EatingDisorderRecovery #SuicidalIdeation #SuicidalThoughts #SuicideAttemptSurvivors

My son is in the hospital.
He’s on suicide watch. He’s just thirteen.
When he looked at me with wide, hollow eyes and said he didn’t want to be alive anymore, I didn’t wait. I didn’t tell him it was just a phase or ask if he was doing it for attention. I called his therapist. I
made the appointment. I showed up.
His father and stepmother’s first question wasn’t “Is he okay??”
It was: “Is he doing it for attention??”
That question scraped something deep inside me, something primal. Something furious.
How can they reduce his pain to theatrics? How can they be more concerned about control than about a child’s suffering?
His father says, “You’re the parent. You should be the one waking him up.”
As if alarm clocks and chores are more important than our son feeling like his life has no meaning. As if asking who is to blame will heal the reason he can barely speak when his father raises his
voice.
Why is E. so afraid to speak?
Why does being yelled at make him feel worthless?
I want to scream. But mostly, I want to fix it. I want to take his pain and fold it into mine so he never has to carry it again. But I can’t. And that breaks me.
I ask myself, am I playing the blame game?
What am I doing wrong?
I spiral into guilt.
It’s my fault.
My fault for not fighting harder to get my shit together.
For being homeless.
For being molested.
For not choosing better partners.
For not saving my son from this world sooner.
I empathize with him because I have lived in that dark place. I know what it feels like to want to disappear.
But how do I help my son get out of his own head when I can barely get out of mine?
I breathe.
I keep breathing.
I remind myself: I am not doing everything wrong.
I listened.
I acted.
I protected him when others tried to dismiss his pain.
The flashbacks will pass. The feelings will, too.
This moment is not forever. It is just a moment.
And in this moment, my son is still here.
Breathing.
Alive.
And so am I.
I may not have all the answers, but I will keep showing up.
I will keep fighting.
I will keep loving.
Because this is not the end of the story.
Not his.
Not mine.
#MentalHealth #Parenting #SuicidalIdeation a

Today, in a few hours, I'll be transferred to the clinic.

I visited it yesterday and I loved it. A friend has to bring me my stuff from my student appartement.

Changes are really hard for me. But it's better than this hospital. I hate hospitals. I hate the doctors and nurses here.

In a few hours, the first 48h I'll have no contact with the exterior (phone, visits, etc...) the first weekend no permission to leave for half a day or a day. Next weekend I'll be able to leave for half a day or a day.

Permissions are only for the weekends.

Phones are allowed between 2:30pm and 6pm except Thursday (1:30pm to 6pm).

It was either the clinic or the hospital anyway as I have no choice. Can't return home or anything.

Im scared, but im exited to leave this horrible hospital.

I asked if I could go with my friend to bring my stud but the hospital refused. I can't leave. But it's just better if it's me I know my stuff. I hate people going through my stuff. I hate that.

But I have no choices, so we'll FT and I'll guide her..

Healing is so scary. Visits are only from 4:30pm to 6pm weekdays and 2:30pm to 6pm weekends.

It's hard because I'll be alone. I know no one. I'm extremely shy and not comfortable for society.

I'm used to that one really close friend. She's my emergency contact and I'm her's too.

I hate new things l.

But I'll be okay, it's for my mental health so I can be okay..

Ill be okay..

Well I guess.. maybe one day...

#MentalHealth #Depression #Anxiety #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #MajorDepressiveDisorder #SuicidalIdeation #SuicidalThoughts #AutismSpectrumDisorder #Autism #EatingDisorder #SuicideAttemptSurvivors #SocialAnxiety

Hi, my name is princesss_Arley.

#MightyTogether #BPD #Anxiety #ADHD #PTSD #EatingDisorder #BodyDysmorphia #BulimiaNervosa #BipolarDisorder #GeneralizedAnxietyDisorder #MajorDepressiveDisorder #SuicidalIdeation #SuicidalThoughts #SuicideAttemptSurvivors #Dysgraphia #Dyslexia #PolycysticOvarySyndrome

... and the end of them.
I don't want support or fake encouragement, I want the power to die with the dignity that I will never have in this Neverending painful existence some called life.

PLEASE NO RELIGIOUS COMMENTS, THANKS.
#BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #SuicidalIdeation #Depression #ChronicIllness

The tricky thing about shame seems to be that it’s both the cause and the effect. I have extreme shame about my trauma responses. I can’t even talk about it. I’ve talked with my therapist a little and it’s helped minimally. She said “what is normal, anyway?” which made me feel even more insane. I self-isolate all the time. I hate being around large groups, and especially around men. My marriage is totally falling apart which perhaps it was time and this is only the catalyst, but we have three children and I am still emotionally dependent on him.

I was a normal woman before this. I was. Now I’m an empty shell.

I’m tired of trying. Ready to throw in the towel. Getting my will notarized and saying goodbye to this cruel world soon. The suicidal thoughts will never cease. I’ve had them since I was as young as I can remember. And here I am at 55 wanting to just go away, be gone. As trite as it sounds, everyone will be much happier without me.

#PTSD #ADHD #SpinalStenosis #Osteoporosis #Depression #Anxiety #SuicidalIdeation