Is this goodbye to country?

These waves are so suffocating – they rip me from any form of happiness or even mild contentment and fling me to the ground, screaming, “You are a horrible, horrible person and you deserve nothing from this world.”  And then the waters settle and I am floating again, bobbing and gasping for air.  The breathing steadies and the temperature stabilizes, and, for a few minutes, I am okay.  I can really get into my Harry Potter books or enjoy a good meal at Tabbert’s with the work crew or feel okay with being alone.  But then that gun is held up to my head again and I am forced to my knees, sobbing as I surrender.

“…but this time it was bigger than the strength she had to get up off her knees.”

Last night, I stumbled across a website about suicide.  It’s kind of a “to whom it may concern” letter that gently asks the reader to step back and think about whether or not they really want to kill themselves.  It’s a great page – I don’t know who wrote it, but they deserve countless thanks.  There was a line about how we become suicidal when the pain and the confusion become stronger than the coping skills that a person has.  That’s exactly how I feel right now.  I do not have the resources, the solutions to make life worth living again – I am just trying to get up in the morning and not take that stupid Swiss Army knife to my wrists. 

It’s good I have a visit with the psychiatrist tomorrow – I’ll show him my cut-up arm and ask him to increase my medication.  I need to get better for me, for Mark, for my family, for my friends.  Because while I may WANT to kill myself, I am already killing them.

And guilt is such a slow, silent death for me – and it is so painful…