suacide
angel
- Sep 13, 2023
- 27
In short, this is kind of my last shot before I start committing to a plan. I don't know what to do, and I know I don't have the willpower to do anything unless I'm being handheld. I'm doing my best to not be self deprecating while I write this.
Recently, my mother passed away. She was the only thing that made me hold onto living, ever since I was about 12, I planned on dying once she did. I'm 23. I didn't plan on turning 16. Then I did. Then I turned 18. 20. 22. Now it's a year later, and she's actually gone. I've realised I can't do it without her, and I don't think I ever will be able to, but I want to give it a shot. I want to be with her, but I don't think she'd want me to. For her, I want to try. She was my everything.
How do I fix myself? For some background, actually, a lot of background (TW, heavy topics, basically my life story):
I've had a long history of trauma. Early internet access ranging from being shown pornographic content very very young, to talking teenagers out of their own suicides at like 8. Seeing horrible things online, and getting addicted to talking to people because of how miserable my life was. 2 cases of SA, one of rape all before I turned 13. When I was young, my father stabbed into a bird cage which had two lovebirds I really loved inside while arguing with my mother and I was in front of her, watching it all. I watched domestic abuse between them that almost turned to me a few times, but my mother protected me. I could never hate my dad though, I don't know why. I felt like crying when I saw him though, out of pity. But I don't know where it came from. I still don't know why I feel that way about him. I was bullied and ostracises because I grew up chubby and autistic/adhd. My mother had leukaemia through this, still did until her last breath as it's what killed her. She survived 20 years or so years. She was a really strong woman.
At some point she started hitting me and our relationship got strained. I hit back and eventually after I called the police on her once, she stopped. But then she started using the police to parent me. If I was late, she'd call the police. If I didn't wanna come home because she was manic and screaming on the phone, she'd call the police. I became afraid and wary of authorities, because they never tried to listen to me. They let her use them. I only got worse and eventually I walked there myself., just tired of it. My dad came and because I was scared of him, I told the officers I refused to go with him, and the one kindness they did for me ever was driving me home and letting me avoid him. There was a time I accidentally hit my mother while she was manic and flailing at me while saying horrible things, but my father didn't believe me even though it was the truth and pinned me to the wall by my throat. I've never been able to fully trust him since and I still remember the way he looked at me.
Because of everything, my school attendance was horrible and in 9th grade I basically stopped going. I became under socialised, borderline nonverbal and I still sometimes struggle to make words pass my throat. I shut down a lot. I'm uneducated as a result. I have no degrees, or even just GCSEs. Most of my childhood and teen hood memories are from the woman's refuge home, in dirty apartments filled with bags of NHS medicine, and once in my 'cousins' home where I was basically locked in a room for 6 months, only coming out to eat once a day (cup of soup/powdered soup pack, 1 slice of bread, I was terrified to eat anything else - then I'd pig out on the weekend where she left. I'll never forget the shame I felt when she caught me once.) and to do things for her, like getting groceries. My life since then has just been… the same. I trap myself in a room, only come out to eat, use the bathroom, rarely shower, maybe get groceries delivered, talk to my mom, or when she was in hospital, call her and get the house ready for her and once a full moon do something like see a movie, but only maybe. I'd been living with my mother, but I'm with family for two more weeks during the funeral. When I get back, I know I likely can't keep my moms home. We were on council, and I moved out for a bit because our house was flooded with human waste due to faulty pipes. I won't go into it, because the way the housing associated treated my mother, a woman with cancer made me so angry it could be its own rant. I don't want to think about having to move from the place that was our home. It feels like I'm having everything precious ripped from my hands lately. My health too is only getting worse. And I know I can't fix myself by myself. I'm like a child still, and that frustrates me.
I live in the UK, I have no irl friends, nobody I can speak with openly and my family relationships are too complicated for me to ever feel any kind of trust towards them.
To anyone who's still reading, please let me know if you have any way I can fix myself. Even just one part of me.
Recently, my mother passed away. She was the only thing that made me hold onto living, ever since I was about 12, I planned on dying once she did. I'm 23. I didn't plan on turning 16. Then I did. Then I turned 18. 20. 22. Now it's a year later, and she's actually gone. I've realised I can't do it without her, and I don't think I ever will be able to, but I want to give it a shot. I want to be with her, but I don't think she'd want me to. For her, I want to try. She was my everything.
How do I fix myself? For some background, actually, a lot of background (TW, heavy topics, basically my life story):
I've had a long history of trauma. Early internet access ranging from being shown pornographic content very very young, to talking teenagers out of their own suicides at like 8. Seeing horrible things online, and getting addicted to talking to people because of how miserable my life was. 2 cases of SA, one of rape all before I turned 13. When I was young, my father stabbed into a bird cage which had two lovebirds I really loved inside while arguing with my mother and I was in front of her, watching it all. I watched domestic abuse between them that almost turned to me a few times, but my mother protected me. I could never hate my dad though, I don't know why. I felt like crying when I saw him though, out of pity. But I don't know where it came from. I still don't know why I feel that way about him. I was bullied and ostracises because I grew up chubby and autistic/adhd. My mother had leukaemia through this, still did until her last breath as it's what killed her. She survived 20 years or so years. She was a really strong woman.
At some point she started hitting me and our relationship got strained. I hit back and eventually after I called the police on her once, she stopped. But then she started using the police to parent me. If I was late, she'd call the police. If I didn't wanna come home because she was manic and screaming on the phone, she'd call the police. I became afraid and wary of authorities, because they never tried to listen to me. They let her use them. I only got worse and eventually I walked there myself., just tired of it. My dad came and because I was scared of him, I told the officers I refused to go with him, and the one kindness they did for me ever was driving me home and letting me avoid him. There was a time I accidentally hit my mother while she was manic and flailing at me while saying horrible things, but my father didn't believe me even though it was the truth and pinned me to the wall by my throat. I've never been able to fully trust him since and I still remember the way he looked at me.
Because of everything, my school attendance was horrible and in 9th grade I basically stopped going. I became under socialised, borderline nonverbal and I still sometimes struggle to make words pass my throat. I shut down a lot. I'm uneducated as a result. I have no degrees, or even just GCSEs. Most of my childhood and teen hood memories are from the woman's refuge home, in dirty apartments filled with bags of NHS medicine, and once in my 'cousins' home where I was basically locked in a room for 6 months, only coming out to eat once a day (cup of soup/powdered soup pack, 1 slice of bread, I was terrified to eat anything else - then I'd pig out on the weekend where she left. I'll never forget the shame I felt when she caught me once.) and to do things for her, like getting groceries. My life since then has just been… the same. I trap myself in a room, only come out to eat, use the bathroom, rarely shower, maybe get groceries delivered, talk to my mom, or when she was in hospital, call her and get the house ready for her and once a full moon do something like see a movie, but only maybe. I'd been living with my mother, but I'm with family for two more weeks during the funeral. When I get back, I know I likely can't keep my moms home. We were on council, and I moved out for a bit because our house was flooded with human waste due to faulty pipes. I won't go into it, because the way the housing associated treated my mother, a woman with cancer made me so angry it could be its own rant. I don't want to think about having to move from the place that was our home. It feels like I'm having everything precious ripped from my hands lately. My health too is only getting worse. And I know I can't fix myself by myself. I'm like a child still, and that frustrates me.
I live in the UK, I have no irl friends, nobody I can speak with openly and my family relationships are too complicated for me to ever feel any kind of trust towards them.
To anyone who's still reading, please let me know if you have any way I can fix myself. Even just one part of me.
