Originally posted on What a Witch:
So everyone knows what today is. Everyone knows that a bunch of people died due to extremism and today everyone is going to bombarded with two things; idiotic “Never Forget,” signs, images, bumper stickers and what not; as well as multiple television shows and movies attempting to retraumatize the public for cash.
And all we’re going to be told today is that we should never forget. Yeah…thanks. I needed that reminder because the image of two people holding hands as they leapt to their deaths from the higher floors of the North Tower, so as to have some human contact in their last moments on earth, was going to go away any time soon; just,you know, pop right out of my head.
You know what we shouldn’t forget?
We shouldn’t forget that there were actually four planes that crashed that day. One took out a building full of soldiers. One…
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We need to stop lying to ourselves about suicide. It is entirely selfish. It’s also giving in whether you like to think if it that way or not.
Selfishness in not a bad thing. We’ve been taught that it is, but let’s be honest, when all the wires are straight and the messages are getting through properly, selfishness is a thing that, at worst, make you kind of a jerk and at best keep you alive. We evolved the urge to take the extra food or the spot closer to the fire as a survival instinct. Yes, sometimes that instinct is now used to take the last cookie or cut off another driver but it is not, in and of itself, a negative emotion.
Look, I struggle with depression. I know the way it feels. As I’ve previously mentioned, I feel it as this crushing weight with teeth and claws and a map to the tender parts of my soul. My level of depression is not impacted by how much money I have, how many friends I can contact, or how cute my outfit is. It can have an impact on those things but it is not impacted by them. Because depression makes me want to not go anywhere, including work, nor talk to people, nor dress in anything but pajamas.
And I’ve had suicidal thoughts; not that I actually want to die so much as how awesome it would be if things suddenly just stopped. Which, I guess, is the lazy person’s version of suicidal thoughts.
And when those happen, the lies depression tells you really kick in. The lies tell you that death is the best answer. Things will stop hurting and since you don’t matter, the world will be so much better off without you.
You spend a not small portion of your time doing any and everything you can to drown out the relentless drum beat of stupid, ugly, worthless all day every day.
And that is hard.
It’s not a thing that I can control But it is a thing that I can fight. And the fight is what matters.
Because the when depression talks, it lies. Anyone who suffers from depression knows that. That’s why we don’t listen.
Except Robin Williams listened. He slipped, one time. He stopped fighting. He knew that depression was lying to him, as evidenced by the fact that he was seeking treatment, but he listened anyway. He gave in to that selfish urge to listen to the lies and end the pain.
It was a mistake, a selfish mistake. We all make those. The lies of depression don’t make the decisions less selfish. They make the sufferer look at the consequences through a fun house mirror where pain is joy and loss is benefit. The thing about suicide is, you can’t fix it after the fact. You can’t decide to share the cookie or let the next guy merge before you because you’re gone. You’re gone and the people left behind are suffering.
Hey you know what, I’m not only someone who fights depression, I’m the adult child of a parent who listened to the lies.
I promise you one thing, no matter how much counseling they get, no matter how much they are assured that their father loved them, Robin Williams’ kids will be left with one crushing truth for the rest of their lives.
Their father did not love them enough to stay.
Maybe that’s selfish too, which is how grief works. Neither depression nor grief is logical.
Our job, as survivors is to push through the lies and keep fighting.
Call someone, even if it’s just to hear another human voice who cares.
If you’re the kind of person who doesn’t do well on the phone reach out to IMALIVE. They do online chat and counseling.
Don’t let anything, even the hateful voice in your head, extinguish your light.
First off I would like to welcome my new readers. HI NEW READERS! Please stay. Also, tell your friends.
Further, thank you to the person who linked the hell out of my post on correctly identifying Rosie the Riveter in several places. You drove the hell out of my site traffic. much love to you.
I promise to get back to tell the truth about people to their digital faces later but today I am going to tell you a story.
Once upon a time there were two lovely ladies who were in love.
They looked like this:
Sadly, like many other ladies who are in love they were not ready to admit it to themselves or other people. So, in the place of the pain of honesty they decided to try a poly relationship with someone they thought was a prince.
Poly can work and many people live happily ever after within it but not these ladies. And that’s mostly because the third leg of their triad was not so much a prince as a clinical narcissist who was incapable of being in a loving, healthy relationship.
So that was an issue.
For real. I’ve got stories but they all involve him so none of them are interesting. Also, this is not about him.
Instead this is about the two lovely ladies.
So the prince thing wasn’t working out.
Also, one of the ladies is gay. Which is also an issue.
But these ladies did love each other and they fought hard to be together. Even though there were times that they didn’t have anything to talk about or any real desire to interact, they kept loving and that brought them back to talking.
After much pain and trials and fights and tears, they got out.
After twelve years of emotional abuse against her and six against me, we, um, I mean the ladies, got out. In fact, three years ago yesterday, the lad…fuck it, we got out.
People often ask us how we knew it was time to go and the answer is, we started asking that question.
If you’ve started imagining how much better your life will be once you are no longer in your relationship, it’s probably time to no longer be in that relationship.
Don’t get it twisted, we had a lot of advantages. We had each other. So when he would gaslight us or rage or generally act like himself, we could each give the other a sanity check.
And yes, we were actually in a place where we sometimes had to look at each other and ask “Did that happen the way I remember or the way he said it happened?”
No really. Gaslighting is a fucking trip.
We also had family who helped us get to where we are now. We had friends who were smart enough to know that we weren’t ready to hear “You are being emotionally and mentally abused,” so they instead simply loved and supported us. We got extremely lucky.
So what is the point of this little anecdote? Why am I spending my very early morning typing about this and not ranting about some social injustice?
Because statistically someone reading this has never heard of gaslighting but is suffering from it right now.
Hey there hypothetical person. You are not crazy. This is an actual thing. This kind of abuse is hard to identify. People who do this do not change. They just get better at abusing you. This is not a situation that you can work through or overcome. They are made of poison and you don’t have to eat that anymore.
Yes, it can be extremely difficult on a number of levels. I understand.
Leave anyway. Make a plan. Execute it and get the fuck out. No matter how hard it is or will be, just go.
Because you deserve better. If you take nothing else from this post take that.
You deserve better than that kind of life.