What could be the end of me. It always has me in its grips, ready to strike a fatal blow.
My suicide monster is sneaky. It convinces me that my immense toxicity impacts everyone around me to such an extent that I HAVE to kill myself or face the guilt and sheer ‘wrongness’ of continuing to inflict myself on the world. It creates a cold, calculating, detached haze in order to stop the sadness or fear the teeny bit of me left might feel in case that selfishly stops me acting for the greater good of everyone.
“But I’m so irreversibly broken” – a constant refrain of mine. I’m so terrified that I’ve been broken so completely and for so long that there’s no coming back…and, in fact, nothing to ‘get back’ to as this all started before adolescence; I’m scared that there stopped being a ‘me’ after childhood, and the ‘me’ that could or should have developed during adolescence couldn’t and wasn’t allowed to. What if there isn’t and can never be a ‘me’? What if this is all there is?
An awesome crisis nurse has been trying to help me work through this, having heard this fear from me constantly and tried in earnest to persuade me that I’m not broken, that nothing is irreversible, and that there really is a ‘me’ that should have hope for a whole and happy future. She set me the task of producing a piece of art to try to remind myself of this and I wanted to share this with you all, as I know I’m not the only one who struggles with this.
So, this is a reminder for anyone struggling with their mental health: you are NOT broken. It can be so hard to believe this because poorly brains can be so convincing about telling us we are hopelessly beyond repair. So, so hard. But if my art helps in any way, please feel free to print off a copy for yourself and, as the aforementioned awesome crisis nurse always says to me: “Say it until you believe it”: