Category Archives: reflections

“I did not die, and yet I lost life’s breath”


~ Dante, The Divine Comedy

I was reading through my suicide book from last year. There weren’t many “chapters” but the ones that existed are startling to see now.

This is the time of year for anniversaries. A year ago today is when I finally figured out that no person, past or present could save me and the time of me saving myself had come to an end.


I spent a few hours trying to figure out who to call and ended up calling my local behavioral health center. I remember the conversation well. The receptionist asked me why I was calling and I told her, “Well, suicidal ideation, all I think about is dying.” And then I started rambling, trying not to cry.

She said their next available appointment wasn’t until December but she would put me on a list to get in if there was a cancellation. She asked me if I had support and I told her that, yes, I had many people who love me.

I reflect on this now because of the change in me. I know a year ago I was “going through the motions” and that’s scary. It’s scary that I kept repeating that I’m dead, this is the end, I’m going to die soon.

I was so anti-medication back then. Once I had made my appointment, that step alone helped me improve just with hope that maybe I would get out of that dark pit.

The pit isn’t gone but I feel like I don’t spend so much time in it and I have to thank my psychiatrist for that and all of my friends who stuck around when I was nothing but a nihilistic trainwreck.

Love is an enigma. It can make or break you or have no effect if you are strong enough for that. The love of my friends, those that would be up at 3 AM so I could talk to them about a toad I found on my back porch, those that took me out of work to go for a walk so I could disassociate and look at the birds, I love them all.

I know lately I’ve been mentally exhausted because demons don’t die, they go away but they don’t die. And the fight is never-ending. I know I haven’t been communicating as often with people as I should but I try to always be available to listen because I’m not the only one with monsters and demons and toxic pasts.

<3 love.

addicted to unhappiness

Today is the first time in nearly a year that I’ve felt good about myself in an overall sense: beautiful, smart, confident, all of that gushy stuff.

That’s not to say I haven’t had moments where I’ve felt awesome in some area. Switching jobs made me feel good. Seeing my baby sisters made me feel good. Getting my voice again made me feel good.

At my psych appointment yesterday, I told her that I don’t want to take one of my medications anymore because it is making me gain weight. She didn’t believe me so she weighed me. I told her that feeling fat causes my BDD to become unmanageable, regardless of how much Zoloft I take.

She asked me why the first psychiatrist put me on that and I told her it was his kneejerk reaction (I assume) to the way I was feeling when I first came in and he was just trying to pull me out of the suicide ditch I’d made for myself.

That anniversary is up next but today I feel good and it had become such an unfamiliar feeling that I kept trying to figure out what was wrong. After taking inventory of my life and emotions, I concluded that nothing is wrong, that this is what happy feels like.

My first selfie on this blog in a while, or anywhere else public. Showered with some leftover eye makeup (need better makeup remover wipes!)


Anniversaries – two

Last year, on top of keeping a journal, I also kept a calendar where I marked important things. Things ranged from appointments to behaviors to triggers and anything significant (not all horrible, sometimes just things people would say to me that’d make me laugh).

October 6th, 2017 was the last time I cut myself. And tomorrow (technically today I guess though it is just after midnight at the moment), is 6 years since my mother was killed in a car accident. And I know each blog I’ve had, I’ve always pointed it out and I will probably do so for the rest of my life.

Because sometimes I still can’t believe she’s gone. This week I laughed when I bought computer glasses for work because they reminded me of the ones she had in prison, the ones she called “birth control glasses” because they were hideous.

I laughed again when I thought of the time she convinced herself that a moth had taken residence in her ear and would say, “But Felicia, I can hear it flying around!” She was like I am. Just convinced of things that are in my bubble and once self-convinced, cannot be unconvinced by others.

In my calendar, by this point last year, I had started drinking more. (To be fair, it started in the beginning of August, when Jared died.) I marked each day I drank (drank, drank again, etc). I’m glad I kept records because I forgot so much and it’s good to track progress.

My suicide book is not gone but transformed into a book I save solely to write intrusive thoughts, in mostly vain attempts to clear my mind when the medicine can’t kill them all. So I have placed this anniversary next to my mother’s and it isn’t a big one compared to what came later in the month, what came in November, December, January. The year has been full of intense changes, returned loves, and the excruciatingly slow process of self-examination and modification based on new knowledge.

Remembering my mom is sometimes a checkpoint for progress: how am I holding up? Am I the same or different? By how much?

I miss my mom a lot, forever. I miss myself from a year ago, only sometimes.

Es hora de ser honesto.

I feel like I have had to quiet my real feelings for so long.  I used to be so open.  Due to feeling like I was under constant surveillance, I kept my words watered down for fear of people acting like nuts.  Unfortunately apologies mean nothing when you can’t be sure what falsified actions were created surrounding situations and feelings.

Fundamental attribution error: our tendency to explain someone’s behavior based on internal factors, such as personality or disposition, and to underestimate the influence that external factors, such as situational influences, have on another person’s behavior.

Let’s explore that.