PTSD and ME (Feelings of Suicide)

Yesterday, I was suicidal from an emotional trigger I had encountered yesterday. Today, I’m okay because I had convinced myself not to pursue suicide. I didn’t initially recognize what happened to me, not right away at least. I understand now.

A guy I know came up to me to have a conversation. To lay out all his problems, and pretty much ignore me when I speak of mine. This guy has been rude to me, taking out his frustrations and now that he seemed to be doing better. I felt like it was a better time to tell him that he had repeatedly hurt my feelings.

“You were incredibly rude to me and was taking your shit out on me and  I’m glad that you’re feeling better”.

“I don’t care”

“I didn’t think you did”

He got up and walked away. Why was speaking out on something he did to me so bad? Why was it acceptable for him to reach out to me and tell me the progress in his life good or bad, but I had somehow made him mad for letting him know he hurt my feelings?

“Wait, we were having a nice conversation why are you leaving?-I promise I will stop giving you shit”

I felt something freeze in me. Here I was bargaining with a jerk over his mistreatment of me. His putting me down, his emotional manipulation, and for what? So, I couldn’t feel alone for a millisecond?

I felt robotic. I felt I was no longer in my body and I felt myself choking. I had had the same conversation with this guy about disrespecting me over and over and I continued to put up with him. I  immediately grabbed a pen and paper and wrote:

“What is there to say when there are no words left? Just scattered thoughts and hurt. I can’t fix my lips to say anything anymore. I just feel this feeling of hurt, but I’m not going to hurt anymore or ever again, not like this. I feel my feelings are always this game and have been for many, but I’ve I’ve watched too many karmas to know that what goes around really does come around.

My heart was a game. My feelings were too. They always were to men.

I’m never looking back again. Never. Ever. Ever. I feel the words choked out of me, like if I have anything or anymore to say I would asphyxiate. I found myself hurt so bad that I can’t speak find my voice or my words. Similar experience with my mother. Here we go around this merry go round, but I need to scream”.

Later on that day, dude comes back to have conversation He’s trying to joke with me and I can’t reply. I simply say to him “I don’t feel like talking”. and he replies “OK”. He tries to speak again maybe in hopes that I reply, but I can’t say anything at all.

As each many goes by I’m weak. I feel incredibly cold, I can’t speak unless it requires one word, but I feel my voice is snatched away from me. I’m afraid because I thought I was doing so well, that I was making progress and this shit happens again.  Unexpected and unwarranted. He had made it clear that I didn’t matter, that he had not cared about my feelings nor did he care about hurting them So, why does he talk to me? Why does he share things with me? Why does he use me as a therapist to his problems?

this is when the suicidal feelings crept in because I felt like this always happens to me. Why am I so bad at making friends? Quality ones? Why do I meet such selfish people? How could he constantly be so cruel to me when I’ve always been compassionate?  then I begin to rationalize why I need to die. because I find myself in the same b.s. no matter ho much therapy I get, confidence I gain, I feel like I’m just a cursed individual. I’m always going to be drawn to selfish people.

I spent roughly 6 hours in a robot state. I videotaped myself to see if I was visibly any different.  I stayed in the same stances for hours that was until someone interrupted me to say hi. I had my head down for an hour or two, then stared of into space for an hour, then went back to looking down, I couldn’t move. I stopped thinking, I had no desire to do anything, but all I could do is sit.  I feel tears forming in my eyes, but whenever I try to get up and go to bathroom to cry. I can’t.

I recognize this trigger from my mother when she got emotionally abusive. I recognize this trigger when my grandma attacks me when I’m a little girl I am unable to fight back, I recognize this trigger when I am raped, I recognize this trigger when I am getting spanked for things I  did not do because my cousin wants to have sex with me when I am a little girl, I recognize this trigger when my ex-boyfriend left me and admits to he abandoned me after he gets what he wants from me, I recognize this trigger when I am dating a guy I like and he doesn’t want me to meet his family because he’s embarrassed of me, I recognized this trigger from when I’m in the hospital ill and my ex-boyfriend laughs and hangs up, when my boss screams at me for whatever reason she felt that day, when my former coworker stole pain pills from me and attempted to bully me at work and when I would stand up for myself I was always in trouble.

Here I am unsafe again. Told I don’t matter. No one cares about me. No one has ever loved me. And I couldn’t figure out for the life of me how to save myself.

This is what having PTSD is like for me. Never knowing when I can or can’t get close to someone, and when I do I find myself in a friendship it’s not healthy nor reciprocal. I find myself in this never ending dilemma of distrust, trust, distrust, etc.

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