If you say so

I couldn’t find a reason to stay among the living, so I searched for it among the dead.

Today I visited a cemetery. For multiple reasons.
– I wanted to (as stated above) look for a reason to stay.
– I wanted to say I’m sorry to them, for being ungrateful with my life while (probably) most of them didn’t want to die.
– I was looking for a safe place. A place where it’s actually okay to cry.

I think it did me well to go. I saw a lot of touching things, made me cry, cry for them, the people around them. The hurt they must have been feeling or maybe still are feeling.

I sat there on a bench and did some stuff that was hard for me to do, but it felt easier there.

Though it brought me a lot. On my way home, my muscles still were burning in pain. This rock was still smothering my lungs. I still felt this agonizing pain inside. I could barely walk normal. Or even hold my tears.

I’m pretty sure I’ll go back, I just don’t know when yet.

It’s not as bad as it seems, it only hurts when I breathe

I guess I’m lucky I’ve had a few weeks of stability because it might be saving my ass right now. It might have built up my rational part a little, or given some strength to the rational/adult voice inside of me.
Because honestly, I feel like shit and suicidal. I’ve been crying all day. Yesterday was a big depressed day as well.

I know there is a huge possibility it’s all just hormones.

But it doesn’t make it better right now.

Rationality is telling me I have enough to live for, but emotionally I’m beyond done. I actually had ‘the talks’ again with my mother.

“Me; I want to die.. please let me die. I want to go”

Things that are ‘supposed’ to bring me joy, don’t. They barely even bring a smile on my face, which feels like a fake one.

Tomorrow will be a very hard day at therapy and I can’t help but think ‘fuck it all’.

And above all this, I feel so damn alone. Really like no one cares. I know people are seeing me doing well, and trusting me doing well on my own. But no one really asks me how I’m really doing.
Wednesday morning messed me up so bad. Therapy doesn’t even know. A few people on twitter approach me and genuinely ask me how I am, because I have been so quiet, and it actually breaks my heart, because THEY notice, how come the people around me don’t?

For the first time, in so long, I have the feeling my security blanket will not be enough when I go out. I feel like I have to carry around my ‘special sharp cutter’ just in case I need it. (Just like I used to)

 
What happened to me?

No police for me please

Hi,

I think it’s save to say I haven’t been in the best place lately.
I was talking to my friend Saturday morning about how I was feeling. To me, it was nothing new. Nothing weird, I didn’t say anything different. Or suspicious. Nothing I might not have said the day before for instance. Of course, I talked to him about how miserable I was feeling, and how I didn’t really see how it could get any better, and to be frank; how I wanted to die.
But to be honest? I said that to him Friday aswell.

Suddenly he didn’t answer anymore. Although I could see he had been online since then (Whatsapp). Well ok, I figured he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I was a little hurt but I can understand it can be a burden to talk about heavy stuff like that. So I just let it go.

50 minutes later the doorbell rang.. I opened and TADAA, the police.

‘Somebody phoned us, saying they were worried about you’

Well just to paint a picture. My heart as racing, I was beyond scared. Brenda SCREAMED terror in my head ‘ABRAHAM!!’, I couldn’t stop shaking, I couldn’t even talk to the police. I just politely gave them my hand as a ‘Hi my name is……’ except, I couldn’t even say that. They asked me if they were allowed to come in. I couldn’t answer, all I could do was shake, and tears escaped from my eyes. I could notice one of them looking around and the other one focussing on my face (and my arm which is full of scars + a few fresh cuts). I was standing there in my pyjama’s, which means a tank top, and a short boxer pants. They were two huge men in uniform. Right in front of me. Very intimidating.

‘Can we go further?’
Brianna was still shaking and crying.
‘We’ll just go to the living room?’
Brianna was still shaking and looked at the living room.

I can’t even describe it. I know I texted my mum; Police is here. Get here now. < That I could do! Wow.
They started to ask me all kinds of questions. A part of me was still being smart, although Brenda was screaming, I knew… they’d put me in a cell if they take me.

One of the cops was real hard and not nice at all, he was very intimidating and scary to be honest. The other one was friendly actually, but unfortunately he didn’t say much. He did try to squeeze a sentence in when the other one was being so harsh and made me cry bad.

It all turned out ok.
My mum came, they left. I was ‘ok enough to not be taken away. I was not a danger to myself and/or others’.

But then I collapsed. I started crying like crazy. Shaking like crazy. I actually cried to my mum straight in her face saying ‘I need Abraham, mummy’.
I was sitting on the couch, she put a blanket over me and got me glass of water and my crisis medication.

Now, the day after…. I slept good thanks to the medication.
My house does not feel save. It’s like the police men are still sitting on the couch. Watching my every move. I don’t know what else to say except; my house isn’t save anymore right now.

xoxo
Brianna

Protected: The ‘H’ from help is for ‘Hello, where are you?’

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