Welcome to Gaia! ::

There isn't one story with me. No particular instance. Nothing book like, or easy to talk about really.

I suppose you could call me a repeat offender, as far as close calls go.
I like to think of it more as swinging in and out of control.

Now i'm a bit more stable. But...
I dunno.

I describe it as cancer or smoking sometimes. Every day you are alive, every day smoke free.. Thats a won battle.
It doesn't just poof, go away.
It lingers, and lurks, and threatens to pop back out again.

Even if I am a suicide survivior, you know?
I'm wary of it.

--

I think the time I was most out of control was when the Irish dancing regional competetion was coming up.
I stress easily.
And dancing makes me an anxiety riddin mess.

The training was hard core, and I'm not a hard core person.

The tension, the fear, it built up over the months.
And the days before the competetion ...

My closest call ever.

I had a full blown mental break down.
I was screaming and sobbing and threatening to my mother that I was going to kill myself.

It didn't really help that my mother yelled right back, called me names, and told me I had better not ******** things up or she'd help me tie the slip knot in my lynching rope.

If it hadn't been for a lot of friends.
Gaia online and other wise..

I would have done some terrible things to myself.

...I'm amazed I made it. To be honest. I'm not quite sure why, or how, but I'm managed to stay.

I went to the Rodeo tonight.
And I want to compare it to holding onto a bucking bull.

Most people fall off.
Sometimes, some how, some one can stay on.
Even when they are certain they are going to be flung off.

I held onto just enough sanity and will power that I did not do what went through my mind.

X__X

I have long stretches of time when I'm stressed, and I become "Passively Suicidal."

I walk into rooms and instantly think about all the things I could do in that room to kill myself.
I plan.

When the stress increases, I get closer. It builds.

And if I don't notice, I forget to hold onto my sanity, and end up doing something bad.

Like not eating all day.
Or slamming my head into the wall.

If it gets worse?

I slip out of conciousness. I completely forget that suicide is not normal.

And then I tell my mother that I'd
"Like to go outside and lie down in the middle of the road."

To which her response was, "Shut up and go to bed. Your not going outside tonight."

X__X

Or
"I'm going to jump out of the ******** window! I'm tired of this! I can't stand it!"

"Quit trying to manipulate me, I'm your mother."

X___X;

At that point, it seems like its a good idea.
She kept saying things to me that made me feel like I wasn't really all that important to her at all.

I told her I was going to take the sissors to my wrists and she told me to go the ******** ahead, she'd throw me in the luny bin and not have to feed me any more.

...

And then proceeded to tell me about all the horrors of being in the luny bin.
Locked me in my room.
Told me I was crazy.
And left me there to cry.

...

Now that I think about it.
I'm surprised I lived.


Basically I'd just rant to people online until I stopped hating myself.
Then I'd force myself to sit and breathe for ten minutes.
And quickly go to sleep.

X__X

Now I'm remembering a lot of things.

Once, when I was around nine years old, I was sitting doing my math homework.
It was tweleve am.
I was exhausted. The math made no sense. I was failing.
And I wasn't allowed to go to bed until I finnished it.

I stared up at the clock on the wall.
And tried to kill myself by holding my breath.

I held it for about two, one and a half minutes before I stopped being able to focus on the clock.
I held my breath so long, that my body forced me to pass out so that it could breath.
Its last resort, really.

I woke up the next morning in the car going to school.
X__X

Major head ache.

My mother is not evil.
Shes human.

And all humans are made of both good and evil, mixed into one unique personallity.
My mother has done quite a lot of good things for me, along with the bad.
I don't want people to hate her for being human.

Just because I only mention the bad.

She's raised me almost singal handedly, with very little money. All of which was made from her sweat and tears.
I've not lacked anything growing up.

Just sometimes ...

Well, she's not perfect.
Her mother never was nice to her.
And she picked up some bad parenting skills.
She loves me though.
And tries to care for me.

Even if she didn't take it seriously that I was about to slice red ribbons across my arms with a pair of sissors.
She kissed my bobos when I was little.
And tucked me in at night.. Sometimes.

Exactly. What she did wasn't the best thing to do in that sort of situation. It was a mistake.

I often have to keep reminding myself that even though my parents have made a lot of mistakes when raising me, that they are only human.
They aren't doing it on purpose. They aren't trying to be malicious. (mostly.)

They are just doing what they think is the right thing to do.
Its hard to tell.
I mean, we are many years apart after all. We think differently.

*Shrugs*

So I try to think of it that way. So I don't end up having a clash in my brain and heart between hating their guts and loving them to death.

At least I have a mom and a dad to hate.

*huggles Intro*

I missed you, dear Intro crying
I felt a really strong feeling of dislike for your mother when I heard those things you said when you threatened to commit suicide..but then when I read on and heard about how she'd used to kiss your booboo's and such, I understand. I understand that she's humans and all humans say things that they don't mean to say.
Everybody would miss you terribly if you weren't alive.
And you must stay alive because we're survival buddies whee

*Nods* Far to often I've tried to put my parents up on podums. We are taught that they are gods, as children. That they don't make mistakes. That they know everything. That they can always be there to help.
Well, they are just humans. And all humans can do when they are put up on that podium, is topple right on down and smash all your false ideals about them.

And honestly, there is no point in being bitter about it, sometimes I can't help it though. I'm no saint myself.

I went to an exhibit once, in the local library, that really changed my view on things.
It was tilted something along the lines of Love over hate.

And it had all these pictures of people who's lives had been horribly disturbed by some one else.
And next to their pictures, was their story of how they learned to forgive who had done it to them.
And how it had made them stronger, better people, and helped to heal long time scars.

" The nazi's killed my family. All of them. They smashed into my house and took them all away. But I forgive them for that."

"They raped my sister in front of me. They killed my father, they shot my brother, they disfigured my face with a knife. They cut off my nose, my ears, and cut my lips. But I forgive them for that."

...
It was stunning. How people could find it in their hearts to face evil people, and say that they were forgiven.
X.x

I'm no where near that state. I mean, I can't even forgive my dad, and he's no where near as bad as all that.
I just hope that I can some day. Let it all go. Forget about it.
Heal.

----

I'm not going to die.
I can't, not any more. I'm not allowed to for gods sake.

"A man's right to punch ends at the next man's nose."

I'm allowed to kill myself, sure.
But not when it means taking what... Three, four other people with me?
I don't think thats fair.

Its the right choice.
And I've made it.

But sometimes I wish I could go back.

Its easier to deal with things if you don't have a future.