Last week was National Suicide Prevention Week.
If you’re suicidal, depressed, or both, I suspect you knew that.
Then again, if you use social media, I bet you knew, too.
It’s an odd week to acknowledge when you‘re currently depressed, so I guess that’s why I waited for it to end. I’ve seen an abundance of emotional social media posts about the darkest moments in people’s lives over the past week, as I’m sure everyone else has.
“I wanted to take my own life,” they usually start out, and they always end with, “But my life is so good now…
My house is a whole ass mess, constantly.
I don’t organize my pantries. I never make it a point to color code my closet. I don’t put anything into alphabetical, or chronological order, and in case you missed it…my house is constantly a damn mess. And I have OCD.
Are you confused yet?
You sound like me in November of 2019 with my recently appointed doctor.
“Are you familiar with OCD?” the doctor asked at the start of my second appointment.
I shrugged. “Umm, kinda?”
My doctor nods forgivingly. “Okay, well. After our conversation at your first appointment, I…
I was so excited about a party that night that I bought a new lip gloss earlier that day. It made my lips look plumper, softer and shinier.
I stood in front of the mirror, smiling at my reflection after I’d applied it. I remember thinking to myself that whoever said you feel good when you look good, wasn’t lying. I looked hot and I felt it.
It was then his large frame appeared in the mirror behind me. He was several inches taller than me and I always liked that in a guy. I tended to crave the feeling…
They say opposites attract but I think my husband and I may take that cute little saying to whole other level.
Where he is shy, I am fun. Fine, or loud, however you want to say it.
Where he cares more about numbers, I care more about feelings and words.
Where he is impulsive and exciting, I must always have a plan.
Where he sees either black or white, I see gray.
And where he always finds a way to be insanely positive, I am annoyingly negative, which by the way happens to be our most common argument starter.
Yesterday, I felt insignificant. I felt disappointed. I felt lost. I felt shame.
The day started like any other. I rolled out of bed a little later than I should have and then I debated whether I’d prefer to eat breakfast or shower—there wasn’t time for both.
Instantly, I chose a shower, because I knew that on the days I feel insignificant, disappointed, lost and ashamed, being clean is an absolute necessity that comes before anything else—even fuel. (Sleep beats both, obviously) Oh, and yes, I did say days, by the way. …
I had just turned 18 and I was terrified of the life I had ahead of me.
I was still in my senior year of high school and I had a boyfriend I loved very much, but as soon as I graduated, I was moving to a different state. A state that would be over 900 miles away from the boyfriend I loved very much.
I was a realistic teenager, which looking back, might have been my biggest downfall, because we all know that all being realistic really means is being negative. I prided myself on not being another stupid…
My ex-boyfriend called me last week.
It was a Tuesday, which felt kind of odd—I mean shouldn’t calling your ex be reserved for your drunk Saturday nights instead of your Tuesday afternoons?
Then again, drunk calls are for booty calls, right? Not apologies. Which was what he said he wanted by the way. To apologize.
I almost choked on the carrot I was eating when he told me. Okay so fine, it was a flaming hot cheeto, not a carrot. Sue me.
“You want to apologize?” I asked him incredulously. “For what?”
It was a stupid question to ask, or…
Today I looked at myself in the mirror, which usually wouldn’t be note worthy. Because well, I won’t lie, I look at myself in the mirror all the time.
I check my reflection, not once, not twice, but three times before I leave the house.When I get in the car, I instantly pull down the mirror in front of me, and check it one more time before I leave. Then I check it again, once I get to my destination. …
How are you?
If I’m being honest, I would love to hear that you’re awful.
I would love for you to admit that you are a miserable human being, because your life sucks. But then, I know I don’t really know you at all and I’m smart enough to know that just because a man spends his nights harassing women, that probably isn’t how he spends his days.
During the day you’re probably pretty normal. You might even be kind. I bet there are people in your world that would never believe me about that night. …
Have you ever told someone who believes in God that you don’t?
Did pity cross their face as soon as the words left your mouth?
Were they hurt by it? Were they defensive over it? Were they disappointed in you?
Personally for me, the answers are, yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes. I feel uncomfortable writing about it even now. …