September is my least favourite month of the year – every year. It’s the one month of the year that I wish I could sleep through.
Today marks the one year anniversary since the last time I tried to commit suicide. It’s also the 6 month anniversary since the last time I cut myself and ran away. It’s also 4 months since I last restricted food and starved myself. Is that worth celebrating?
I’m conflicted because celebrating my life means facing up to my past attempts to end it and the pain that caused my attempts on my life as well as the self-harm. I’m finding that somewhat overwhelming. On top of that this month carries many painful anniversaries. One is the 2nd anniversary of the death of one of my closest friends (tomorrow, 7th September). Her death still causes me immense pain. I wish I could message her. I wish I could hug her. I wish I could hear her voice and her singing. My heart aches.
Nearly every day this month is filled with painful memories and painful anniversaries. It seems impossible for me to keep going through this month. I’m hurting and grieving and not coping at all well. All the while trying to keep on top of everything else going on in my life.
My default position is that you’d all be better off without me – I can’t upset anyone by being me if I’m not here. Also, I can’t feel pain if I’m not alive. That would be a big release. On the other hand I’d dearly love to reach my second anniversary since trying to commit suicide. I’d also dearly love to be healed from this intense pain that I’m suffering. I’d also dearly love to be loved and have close relationships.