Sometimes it hurts

When I got depressed around my birthday this year I just seemed to sink, I didn't much care about anything and when I started to think about harming myself that was the jolt. I didn't know where these thoughts had come from, I didn't actually want to die but everywhere I went it seemed I saw things that I could use to kill myself. It was strange and extremely scary, how could I be thinking about, dreaming about doing something that I really didn't want to do? I thought about it increasingly in fact I got so scared of myself. That puzzled me the most - how could I be scared of myself, of what I might do, I would have said that I had control over myself. This was something that you choose to do and I didn't and yet I was still scared that I would end up doing it. One of the main things that helped me through was the thought that no matter what I was going through, if I died my family would go through worse and why, when I couldn't stand it should I put that on more than one person. I think if I didn't have a family though I might have done.

Now I know that if I didn't have a family, I would do it. In fact this frustrates me, as you see, months later, a stint in hospital, months of weekly counselling I now do want to kill myself. I am not scared by the thought anymore, its no longer a mysterious horrendous thought appearing from a side of me I had never met before and didn't want to know, its a realisation that I am trapped. I now want to and can't and that more than anything makes me want to even more. And the scary part - my family's feelings are starting to matter less and less.