TRIGGER WARNING: This article is going to talk about mental illness, grief, suicide, and basically all things that can be very upsetting. Please put your wellness first. <3
IF YOU ARE FEELING SUICIDAL PLEASE CALL THE (US) NATIONAL SUICIDE LIFELINE AT 800-273-2355. DO NOT HESITATE TO ASK FOR HELP. There is no shame, none at all. <3
I want to talk about something. This piece will probably be a bit more chaotic and less professional than my previous ones, but I digress. We have to stop giving a fuck about what the critical person thinks, because the NEXT person? The person that NEEDS YOUR WORDS?? You could really help them just by speaking up.
I haven’t been happy in about four years. That probably seems like a large exaggeration to some, but I assure you, I do not kid around here.
What it comes down to is this:
When something that has happened to you in life is so painful that you literally cannot bear to face it on a daily basis, sometimes burying these things becomes a means of survival. You’d be surprised what a determined individual can bury in their psyche.
To this modern day, I find it quite troubling that there is still such a taboo around mental health- even just talking about it. Decades ago, people were afraid to even try to seek help. Acting strangely or just differently enough to have a few people concerned could get you sent to a place you DID NOT want to go to. We seem to be somewhat past that now, but there is still a thick cloud of stigma that hangs over us. This time, it is social. It feels as if when we are having an unpleasant emotion, we shouldn’t talk about it or express it. Well, I want those times to be over. For good. Not that we should just cry all over the TL all the time, or be all "ahhhh!" all the time, but, this stigma is so THICK I can feel it, and so can others.
In 2017 I was dating someone, and I had finally decided that all I really needed or even wanted in life to be happy in life was to be together with someone, and maybe have a family of our own. I finally find someone else who also wanted these things, which is a hard thing to do.
And... this happens. I haven’t been the same since, and other than that one person that really let me down LATER, I haven’t dated anyone since. I just literally cannot bring my heart to do it. (Phlox & McCoy forever!)
The next day, after this image, he was gone. <3
Please be aware- this is where it becomes very real, and I lay everything out.
It… was the strangest thing, before true realization was upon me. It was like some zone between knowledge and acceptance.
His phone rang. He never neglected the phone. So, when it rang… and rang… and rang, I woke up from my sleep. I called his name several times, and that was the point I wished I hadn’t woken up. Then, or maybe ever. I knew. I just knew. I don’t know how I did, but I just knew he was already gone. But I had to try to do anything I could, CPR, 911. I had to. You have to when you love someone. Unfortunately, there was… nothing to be done, that could be done. He was beyond saving, and he left us while he slept, there in the living room. We had fallen asleep watching TV because I couldn’t sleep. He stayed up with me, all night. (He had a congenital heart defect- for anyone wondering.)
We watched Hulu, and I keep him with me in this way, even still. It's like we still watch together <3
Again, graphic-
It was horrible. This is the reason I have PTSD.
When you call 911, you’re their eyes and ears. They had me do CPR on him, which was unsuccessful. I tried to move him, so I could do it properly, but I couldn’t. A police officer announced himself and ran into the house, and I looked at him and screamed, “Please, help us! Help me!” and bless this man, he didn’t miss a fucking beat and got right to work seeing if there was anything that he could do that I hadn’t already.
But there wasn’t. He was gone.
I sat under a tree and watched as they took his body away. I had to tell his mother. How do you tell a mother… that their child is gone? I don’t remember much, other than screaming and crying. I went outside and fell onto the ground, crawled in the grass, and onto the gravel so hard that I still had marks on my arms and legs a week later when we had his memorial. One of the most painful memories I hold with me. If I could let go of that moment, I would. Whatever it would cost me.
The hardest part was that everyone left me, I had nobody. My mom was with me, but at that time she was taking care of someone that was extremely sick, so she, unfortunately, couldn’t be with me after the first week, and the funeral was over.
VERY REAL- I... I had a plan. I had become so tired, and so exhausted. I was trying so hard to get better but nothing was working, and I just… I really felt like I couldn’t go on anymore. So yes. I am saying this on paper right now. I’m scared, but fuck the stigmas I am saying this: I had a suicide plan. If I wasn’t better by one year, I was going to do it. I just couldn’t bear it anymore. Thankfully, I got past the point where I felt like that was what I needed to do. (I’m still here, thankfully, I’m still here with all of you. And I’m never going anywhere. <3)
(PLEASE CALL 800-273-2355 IF YOU FEEL SUICIDAL. YOU ARE LOVED AND YOU MATTER).
I had never lost a loved one so close to me before, only vague grandparents that I had never really spent much time with. Those times, I actually felt bad I didn’t miss those people more. Now, this time, this time, I would’ve given anything to feel anything, anything else but this. The despair was soul-crushing. It’s been four years, and it still can be at times. I miss him, of course, but I miss myself, mostly. The person that didn’t know that much pain could be heaped upon a single person, a single family. I didn’t sleep. I was scared TO GO TO SLEEP. I had PTSD attacks every day for a year when I first woke up. I didn’t eat. I starved myself for a year, as a matter of fact. So much so that now I have lasting effects from it. If I don’t eat right when I feel that I need to, I become extremely ill.
Then, for about a year, I am recovering, learning how to live, and love myself again. I even- even tried dating someone. I couldn’t believe I was brave enough to try (it was a mistake, lmao the ONE TIME- carpe diem) but, I did.
Recovering, recovery, living life, FEELING THINGS AGAIN. Beautiful things. It took me 8 months to be able to take a selfie again.
And then-
My brother is killed, in a horrific, senseless accident.
I am not saying this merely for effect, or as a platitude of some kind, but I legitimately did not know one human being, one soul, one person…. could have so much pain heaped upon them and not crumble from the sheer weight of it. I didn’t even feel bad for myself, I mean I did. But, the worst part was seeing everyone I love, everyone, the entire family, CHILDREN INCLUDED, feeling like I had felt a year ago. It was a living hell. A waking purgatory. We are not, and have not been the same, not a single fucking one of us. Some of us don’t even speak, because we can’t bear to face each other, even virtually.
2020 was the year of hell for everyone I think, but it also chose to heap another pile of shit upon me in the form of losing my grandfather next. Forgive me for these figures of speech, but it’s just like ‘bam, bam bam,’. Life smacking me in the face, sucker punches, over and over. It was so hard seeing my poor mother being so sad all over again. He was extremely sick and was also deeply affected by the loss of my brother, but… even if you’re expecting a loss, it can still be exceedingly difficult to accept, and realize.
Again, 2020 being the year of actual torture, there were some bright spots, few and far between. I came back to Twitter out of sheer boredom and isolation, and wow- did I find my FAMILY. Every single one of you belongs to me. FAMILY. I have never been surrounded by love as I have with all of you. I was so lost that I came back to what I knew from my childhood, Star Trek, and it saved me, all over again. Just like it was a respite for me then, it has become that and SO MUCH more. It gives me strength. It was like I couldn’t pick myself up anymore. I was spiraling. Star Trek saved me like it always has, and it always will. It's so beautiful. Star Trek saves lives, in so many ways.
I have more friends than I can even count. It may seem silly to some to call online people friends, but when people consistently show up for you over, and over, showing you love when you need it, laughing with you during the good times, and sitting with you during the bad, how can that be anything BUT friendship??
LLAP. I love you. This is for you. For anyone out there that’s hurting. You’re not alone, ever. Not fucking EVER. Know that.
-StarfleetQueen <3
