When you have an injury or sore and you but a bandage over it, that is the soothing, comforting part. When the wound is no longer raw and painful, it’s time for the bandage to come off. But when the wound has been covered for many, many years, there is even a fear of pulling it off. What will it be like? How bad will it hurt? Have you ever been in the hospital and had an IV taped to your arm for 5 days? If you have, then you know it becomes part of your skin. I was thinking the other day how I keep pulling the bandage back just a little and the pain is too much. So I just say, “Not today” and close it back up.
Part of my life survival has always been the need to stay in control of my emotions. Especially crying and anger. And when I felt those things, I felt stupid and ashamed. I felt like I must have a character flaw if I needed to cry.
Growing up, emotions in our home were crazy and frightening. Yelling, hitting, cursing, screaming, name calling, and any other verbal abuse you could imagine. Alcohol and drugs were always there.
When I thought about writing this blog, my first thought was what if it’s emotionally too painful? What if I need to cry? What if I get mad? And what if telling my story is pulling off the bandage?
It took me probably 6 months to even start to share the details with my therapist and I truly thought I was going to die afterward. My heart hurt. Literally. I prayed over and over for God to take me so I wouldn’t have to leave my family with the pain of suicide.
But Im still here and still struggling to even speak the words that describe what happened.
10 years is a lot of memories. Most of which, Im sure I’ll never recover because God is merciful and knows what I can handle.
Most of my family would say that I need to just get over it and let it go. And I did that for a very long time. I did not choose to turn my life over to the past. It chose to rear it’s ugly head in my dreams and subconcious. But this time, Im not fighting it. I will be free of this shxx once and for all.
The night that I decided to take my life, I fought it hard. I called 5 people before anyone answered. It was about midnight. Desperate and not making sense, all I could say was, “I’m not doing well”. The person on the other end said where are you? And came to find me without even a question. I knew that person was sent from God. He had this Angel already lined up. And the next day my Angel was sitting in therapy with me, holding my hand.
I think that was really the first time that I thought I could finally make it thru this.
I still have not ripped off the bandage but Im pulling it back a little more each day.
I’m finally starting to feel loved and accepted in spite of my flaws. I now have a team of supporters who always encourage me to keep going. Even though in my mind I give up daily. I have to work on giving in and not giving up. Feeling the emotions and surviving them. Only then can I be truly free.
Until next time – I am being MJ every day.