Break the Stigma: My Mind Scares Me at Times

Me: “…I can’t believe she attempted, of all people”

Mom: “Was it harassment?”

Me: “I don’t know, but I can’t imagine that phone call”

Mom: “…I mean, you know, there were times when you were so sad I was afraid I’d get that phone call”

Me: “I get that. I’d be lying if I said there weren’t stretches of times I thought of it constantly, tried it, or saw it as my only option, but it wasn’t sadness”

Mom: “Yeah, but I guess, you just seemed so sad”

Me: “I guess that is part of it, but not nearly all of it. It’s so much more – being numb, not seeing a light…I don’t know”

Mom: “I honestly don’t know what I’d ever do if anything ever happened to you or your sister”

Me: “I get that, but there were times I honestly didn’t know how to keep going”

Mom: “When my mom’s sister committed suicide, she never got over it. She never could get it off her conscious, or fully stop thinking about it, what she could’ve done that is”

Me: “Yeah, that popped in my head a lot. It wasn’t ’til after my friend lost her dad that the “after” hit me. The “what happens to the person who finds you, the people who love you”, all that. But even still, sometimes the darkness can be so heavy, so constraining, your mind can grow scary, numb, consumed with a terror in a way where those thoughts almost can’t be heard, seen, focused on. Once you’re better you can reflect on it more, grow thankful that is, I guess. But it truly can be scary, night and day, not for sadness, but it’s a depth, a dark hole often unexplored, which you can rarely put the right words to. The feeling is weighted, foggy, negative, numbing, saddening, lonely, pointed downward as though you can barely look up, crippling…frightening. I don’t know I can ever describe it properly, but I can say I don’t wish it on anyone and I wish to be beside everyone I know who also struggles so they are aware they are not alone”

Mom: “But you don’t still feel that way, right?”

Me: “It’s complicated I guess. I haven’t felt that way in quite a while, I’ve had some recent highs and lows, but not nearly as bad in a bit now. But it’s like an addict in a way, not that it is a drug or addicting, but in the sense of recovery. You are never truly healed, the moments can sneak in, it is a constant battle, where some days or stretches of time are better, easier than others, but I am uncertain as to whether anyone can truly be healed”


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