I’m suicidal right now. And it sucks.
According to my mood rating, yesterday I was a 0. Then I forced myself into a 10. I really felt more like a 5. I’m a 3.2 today: moderately depressed, passing thoughts of suicide with some difficulty functioning.
I know exactly what’s triggering my suicidal thoughts: my stupid assumptions about how my co-workers and boss feel about me.
I’m a total people-pleaser. Despite my assumptions, I have a tendency to read people quite well. I can tell when they don’t like me, when they do, and when they’re pretty much ho-hum about me.
I have two co-workers that are basically annoyed with me because of my absence on my birthday Friday (I know this because they were fine on Thursday), my boss is "ho-hum," and the rest of my co-workers don’t really care. (More later throughout the week on my birthday weekend.)
My husband continues to remind me that I need to keep my thoughts focused on God. My suicidal tendencies develop because I’m so self-absorbed that I take my focus off of God.
I want to kill myself as I way to punish my co-workers. There. I said it. I want to kill myself because two people are annoyed with me. (And I know they’ll get over it; they always tend to.) But I can’t stand the cold, stony silence. I can’t stand not knowing what people are thinking about me. I can’t stand the cold e-mails I receive when I try to be warm and friendly.
I have a lot to do at work. I’m a little overwhelmed because I’m still quite new, but I’m doing my best to keep up with things here. I should be currently working, but I’m taking the opportunity to use my 15-minute paid break as a way to relieve the pain that’s beginning to develop in my mind and heart.
It’s totally stupid to kill myself because TWO people don’t like me. I have a whole bunch of family and friends who love me to death (npi) and I’m suicidal because TWO people are currently annoyed with me.
I realize how silly that is.
I also realize that I need to focus on putting my faith in God to get me through this day (and every other day). But then I become self-absorbed again in my "Woe is me, nobody likes me."
This happens quite frequently with me.
It’s not always the cause of my suicidal tendencies. Sometimes, I’m just suicidal because I’m tired and have no willpower to fight. Sometimes, I’m suicidal because… I just am. It’s an impulse I can’t seem to fight and I just go along with it because my body says so. Ninety-nine percent of the time, my mind willingly follows my body’s suicidal inclination. I’ve found the one percent when I’ve been able to use my mind to combat my body.
But here at work, I currently hate myself. I hate myself because I have two co-workers who are annoyed with me.
I’m not stating anything new; I’m just trying to convince myself that my suicidal reasoning is… well, stupid.
But it’s not just people-pleasing. That’s the trigger. I pile it on with a variety of things: I can’t deal with people who don’t like me, I can’t deal with the fact that I can’t deal with people who don’t like me, I can’t deal with the fact that I may never be able to control my emotions toward the situation, I can’t deal with the fact that people won’t like me in the future, I can’t deal with the fact that I’ll feel the same way then, too. I can’t deal I can’t deal I can’t deal.
And so I decide how I’ll commit suicide. I’m always hesitant as to how I’ll do it.
Throwing myself off a terrace or off a balcony. Damn the police and people that save me.
Hanging. An instant death, but the hubby always seems to come to the rescue.
Overdosing on pills. Tried it before, hasn’t worked. And charcoal tastes like shit.
Strike three; I’m out.
Then I come up to bat again. Now, I think up relatively easy and creative ones:
Drinking household cleaner. Mmm, that might get results.
Drowning. I can’t swim so it’s irreversible.
A gun. Once I pull the trigger, that’s it.
Then I get stuck and think:
Getting hit by a moving vehicle? No, too much risk of paralysis.
Throwing myself onto the train tracks. Nah, too much anticipation and too messy.
Crashing my car? I don’t want to potentially harm other people. (I’m suicidal; not homicidal.)
Stabbing myself in the neck. I don’t have the balls (haha, literally) to do that.
Walking in a desolate, crime-filled part of town, hoping to get mugged, raped, or murdered. Criminals seem to ignore me, however.
Dang it! When will these foul balls end?
Then my husband restrains me; my mother begs, pleads, and reminds me of how distraught she was when my father died; a stranger or someone I know gives me reason to smile and become hopeful; I end up in the hospital feeling all better; or the suicidal feelings just pass.
Fly ball. I’m out.
I don’t mean to give anyone ideas, but the truth remains the same. Not just for me but for all suicidal people: We don’t really want to kill ourselves, we just want to end our pain. We’ve got to find other options to end our pain instead of falling back on what seems to be our only option — self-induced death. The problem is that we don’t know what else to do. God’s used people to intervene on my behalf. (I don’t see it as "chance" or "coincidence.") But sometimes — and it pains me to admit this — I feel like God just isn’t enough for me.
Well, that was cathartic. I’m now up to a mood-rating of 6. I’ll be able to function better at work now.
ADDENDUM: I’m down to one co-worker who’s pissed at me. But I think it has more to do with how she’s working on the bulk of the work that I can’t get to because of other pressing items. Oy.