Just a few weeks ago, I found myself beginning to hit bottom. I was at a loss on so many things in life and where my life was headed. I was battling my own demons, while watching my husband struggle with his from combat.
As I stood in my living room holding a bottle of pain meds in my hand, there was a moment that an out of place thought ran through my head of "take one...or just take them all". Never, has anything like that even crossed my mind. I honestly stood there debating whether or not to take them all because I felt like I was hitting bottom.
I felt like I was just shattering into a million tiny pieces with no one to help pick me back up. I was crumbing with nowhere to fall and with no one to fall into. I have a large amount of friends that surround me and say they are here, but I had I admitted these thoughts to any of them they would have told me to go to the ER, seek emergency help or they would tell me how sorry they are that things are as they are. Neither of what I was looking for. I wanted an outlet. I wanted to scream and yell. I wanted a friend to just hear me out, to hear my thoughts and feelings as I was at a point that I had never reached.
I tried not too long ago to talk to someone and was told that since I wasn't suicidal or homicidal, I could wait to talk to someone in the mental health field because others had a priority. Well, damn, if that's the way people that feel such as I have lately, I understand how one can reach the point of suicidal thoughts.
No, I am not going to harm myself. I would never take my life, I do have a lot to be thankful for. I am just frustrated and honestly feel like I am an emotional mess on a never ending roller coaster. There is that small part of me that has wondered if my family and friends would be better off without me. My husband looked at me a month ago and said "You always say how unstable and explosive I am...Look at you". I felt like it would have been better had he just hit me. I think I could have handled that much better.
I sent my husband to war twice. I helped him pack his bags. I watched as the military took him to combat, to fight against monsters. I stood beside him through it all and as he came home a different man from the first deployment, just to deploy again a year and a half later after receiving no help and fighting himself from the hell that he had lived in.
His first deployment may not have left me without my husband physically, but it left me without my husband mentally. He returned home someone that physically and mentally was struggling, on edge, apprehensive, and battling his own fierce demons.
I have struggled with the severity of my husbands injuries and the fact that as the days pass, I realize he is not getting better and in many ways, becoming worse. I have battled my own demons that many do not know about nor have they taken the time to learn. Yet, I tend to put a smile on my face and act as though all is okay. I stand strong, when there are times I feel so weak. There are days I want to fall apart, that I want support...yet I have no idea how to even bring these things up to those that call themselves a friend.
It's those that appear to be the strongest, that often need support the most....