Failure = Suicide; where's success?

Last week, I felt extremely suicidal. The feeling began about Thursday or Friday of early August and lasted through the 10th. It came to a head on the 10th when I finally decided that I’d end my misery in the same token way as “Ryan.” I wanted to fall down brain dead by “huffing.”

I tried to evaluate my thinking: I had a wonderful husband, a good-paying job with great benefits, lovely in-laws, a beautiful new apartment and wonderful opportunities for me on every corner. So why was it that for the first time, my external circumstances being great, I was internally shaken?

The pain in my heart had gotten too unbearable. Nothing externally was wrong, but internally, I was depressed, suicidal, hopeless and worthless.

A friend pointed out that Ryan and I were no different. This revelation which should have propelled me to see the severity of my condition and turn my view around for the better, backfired and propelled me into depts. of despair, wanting to rival Ryan’s demise.

In the end, I took a “mental health” day — this day for me, is no particular joke — and my husband and I went to a Christian counseling center just north of Philadelphia. I received a new counselor but talked at length about my history with depression. (The bad thing about finding new counselors is that you must rehash your entire life story for the first session.)

My new counselor, Julie, pointed out a few interesting things, one of them namely being that the people from my past — no longer in my life — hold more control over me than the people who matter: the people who love me.

Such a revelation is disturbing to say the least. I knew I hadn’t been able to get past the traumatizing years of high school and grade school but the idea that they still kept me captive was crushing. My tormentors probably haven’t given me a second though yet I think about them in some way, every day. I am so afraid of that I will give them another opportunity to laugh at me that I keep myself from things I’d like to pursue — mainstream singing, acting, entrepreneurship, etc. My life revolves around being able to say or feel “told ya so” toward them. Why? Why can’t it just be enough that I tell myself so?

And why I am so afraid of failure? If I fail at something, it only means I can succeed at something else.

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