The Truth About Suicide

I am More Than a Man Leaving

Someone said that to me in a comment a few posts back. I can't explain brain chemistry. This is the strangest place I have ever been in with regard to depression. Yes I had hurt greatly when Matt left. Yet this is very different.

I want to be clear, I am not suicidal.

I want to tell you something however about the darkest thoughts I had a few weeks back before I saw a doctor and started a medical treatment for this depression.

I have come the closest to suicide I have ever been. Oh, it's not just a man leaving, nor losing the house. It's not any one of those things in particular. It is the culmination of several things, many of which I could handle had I not been betrayed by someone I loved and trusted. I dated him for almost 3 years. He was my rock, my best friend, my champion. He was as much of a part of my day as eating, brushing my teeth, breathing. He just fit into my life, woven intrinsically into every hour of the day. We were in touch constantly throughout the day. We saw each other 3 times a week, more often when possible. It was almost like a marriage but we lived apart. He loved me, he loved my son, his family loved me. We had ups and downs, closer months, more distant months. We were sometimes too busy to hang out, and we sometimes felt we had to get to know each other all over again when we met up if we had been apart for too long. We were very close and did so much together. And our love life was intimate and healthy.

We had a month where we were so close it almost scared me. I began to be excited about our future. My heart was bursting, and he was feeling some things he had never felt before. My little boy had warmed his way into this man's heart.

My divorce was final, and I realized that I was really in love and wanted us to move forward.

I don't know what changed after that. Something happened. I don't know what.

We had a month where we hadn't been able to connect, and I sensed something was different. He was distant but that was not unusual. We often had to reconnect after being apart for so long. He had two trips, I had one and we hadn't been together for a while.

We spent a weekend together finally. It was the first one with the three of us. It did not go well. The timing was off. We had not yet had a chance to reconnect, and so we headed off with an ocean of distance between us. Maybe another time I can write about it. I took much of the responsibility for it. I treated our relationship carelessly that weekend and dismissed what we had, thinking maybe it just can't work out when three are involved. I'm a package deal, and maybe this was reality. Reality was too much for this quiet introverted man.

One week later we spent 5 full days together and on the 5th day we ended it, amicably. He told me he didn't want to be a father nor get married. I wanted that, and so we knew we wanted different things. It was harder than I thought it would be. It was sadder than I thought it would be. We cried together the entire night and held each other close.

Ten days later, on my birthday, my 50th birthday, he sent me one last text.

And that was it.

I had no idea we were not going to talk anymore. We had talked during those 10 days, saw each other during those days, hung out a few times. It was different, but we were trying to "untangle". It wasn't a cold turkey break up, at least that's what I thought we had decided. He was still sending me Sweet Dreams texts (as he'd done every night for the last three years) and he was often texting me during the day. I had read a (stupid) book that said not to respond to those texts too much, so I didn't. I tried to distance myself. On Wednesday he asked me about dinner plans for my birthday. I had not been sure he was going to spend the day with me, so I had decided to go to our cottage with my son. He asked if he should change them. I responded yes, another time would be great. I had already made alternate plans.

But on the 25th of July, after his birthday text there was only radio silence.

I tried to talk to him. No response. No text. No coming by. I went to see him. He was angry and ran off. I had no idea what happened.

And then I realized. There was another woman. It took a bit to figure it out, but I did. I figured he wanted me out so that he could date her. Problem was I didn't want to go away without closure.

Well, things went from bad to worse after that. He's very into this new young beautiful woman. I know it's a rebound relationship; she stepped in exactly where I left off. Everything he does with her he has done with me. He hasn't missed a beat. It's as if he's still dating me, only it's her.

My depression got worse. The convergence of hormones, a 50th birthday, breaking up, betrayal (sexually too) and losing my home was just too much for me. I felt guilt, I internalized the things he said to me. My days were dark and the desire to fix this was stronger than my desire to parent my child.

Let me repeat that.

My desire to make things right in that relationship was stronger than my desire to parent my child.

Strange things were happening to my brain. I wasn't thinking clearly. If you read this blog you will see how much I love my son. I suddenly understood those drug addicts who leave their children at home, or take them with them into dangerous parts of the city in order to get their fix. I understood why woman did drugs in front of their kids. It all became clear. There are times in one's life where the desire to do something for one's self is stronger than the responsibility you have to take care of your child.

I'm not a drug addict. But holy crap, I was definitely doing things that mothers do not do. Unless they are drug addicts.

And then the darkness came. The strong suicidal thoughts. I can tell you this from my own experience, those of you who know someone who has killed themselves:

Nothing can stop them. Nothing you say or do can stop them. I have 100 friends who will drop anything to help me. I have a million reasons to stay alive. I have a 1000 gifts that God gave me, and I know all these great things about myself. I do. I know I am a good woman. I know I am in inspiration to many. I know my friends adore me! I know I bring smiles to people's faces, I warm hearts, I help heal them, I counsel, love, give, teach, share. I am that person. I'm one of the good ones (thank you Mom and Dad and God and brother and sisters for teaching me all that I know).

None of that mattered.

I knew it would be a waste to end my life. I had more to give. More to do. I knew it would hurt a lot of people, greatly. I knew it would make my family feel guilty and angry. I knew my nephews, Kaz, Julia would just die and cry and not understand. (These are all young people who look up to me.)

NONE of that mattered.

There was nothing anyone could say or do that would give me hope or take the pain away. Nothing. No one could help. There was not one thing someone could say. Not Jesus, not God, no Bible verses. Friends would say they'd miss me. I didn't care. NONE of that mattered. For the first time in my life I was really afraid I might hurt myself, and worse, hurt Oliver by leaving him without a mother. The rest did not matter. It's a strange, scary dark place.

The one hitch was Oliver. And even Oliver, I began to feel, would be OK without me.

I'm telling you that there was nothing anyone could have done to stop me. I was scared, I was not me, I was a walking zombie. I knew people were trying to help me, people were trying to give me reasons to live, people were worried for me. I was worried for me. There is a huge difference between having suicidal thoughts and feeling like suicide will actually be a solution to ending the pain. That was the first time I thought it was a good idea.

I only thank God that I felt a hook to my son. He is what stopped me. He is the reason I dealt with the pain, still dealing with the pain.

And the pain is the only reason that I wanted to end it because it was more intense than any I'd ever felt.

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Now I can see for myself that that man was not worth hurting this little boy. As hard as it is to let him go (I have no choice) I am going to face my future without his love and support and I am going to get better so I can be that happy mom again for my Peanut.

Let me tell you this is no easy task. The meds are starting to work, but it's only the beginning. I've work to do and I have to get my act together somehow to manage what needs to get done in my life. I have a big project at work and yet i have to pack up an entire house in just a few days.

Today, I'm done with this man. I'm sad and heartbroken, but mostly I feel betrayed. It seemed to happen so fast. And all those things he told me... they were lies. I have been betrayed and he feels no pain or remorse. He's so captured by this new woman (I could see it for myself first hand as I've run into them together a few times) that he has had no time to grieve our loss. Maybe some day he will if this new relationship doesn't work out, but regardless, my job now is to let go and move on, hard as it is. I'm angry. I'd love to tell him off but I know I wont ever have the chance. He wont stick around to hear it. And he wont see me or answer calls or allow me to come to his house or he says he'll call the police or get a restraining order. I'm not crazy. No one blames me for wanting answers and closure. What a betrayal this has been and it has come at the worst time. I hate him for what he's done to me and for hurting my son who says he misses him. Not so much as a good bye to Oliver. What an ass.

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My son is sleeping here beside me. I love that he likes to be in my bed with me. He's not a big cuddler anymore, so we don't hug and cuddle up like we used to. But that's fine. He's here. He's my rock, my anchor and the reason why I'm still here today.

I want to find that zest for life again, even just glimpses of it. Until then, my friends and family are gently prodding me along keeping me on my path until my brain gets right and my heart mends.