Killing Me Softly

I’ve had this blog for about two weeks now. I’m loving the support and guidance provided by those close to me. My partner has been somewhat absent. She is rather shy. She’s quite the opposite of me. She lacks a confidence in herself that I hope to help her find. I don’t think she’s posted anything because she’s worried it may not be well received. It’s a lot of real shit that she has stored inside. So, I thought I’d break the ice and provide some tough shit of my own. This will be a rather heavy post but it’ll be worth the read.

It was during my days of living with Shadow. The mental and emotional abuse were well rooted now and beginning to blossom. I was suffering from postpartum depression. I’d heard of it but I didn’t think it would happen to me. I’m a very bright, and optimistic asshole. I love life, or at least I do now. At that time, I was very real. I’ll put it to you this way – an optimistic person will see the world as they want to see it. They’ll see the good and beauty in everything, even death. A pessimistic person will see the world as it is. They’ll understand that shitty things happen to good and bad people. They’ll understand that good doesn’t always triumph and no one is guaranteed a happy ending.

That’s where I was. I was struggling to keep my relationship relevant and raising two young boys. Shadow had explained the way we were to split costs financially. Since I made less money, I would use my entire paycheck to cover the majority of the bills: gas, light, disposal, internet, cable. He would use a portion of his check to pay the rent and buy food. Since he made a considerable amount more, he had more left over on his check. Which he considered to be his money, not our money. He’d use his money to go out and treat himself to small getaways from the house. He was stressed. Clearly understandable, but that left me with an enormous weight at home. I had to cook, clean, tend to the boys, and this was all after an eight hour job.

I was in my mind a lot trying to figure out ways to make Shadow love me. I hardly spoke to Yoshi. He suffered greatly during those times. Shadow would come home and want time alone. If he wasn’t trying to decompress, he’d take Maki with him and show him all the love I wanted. I was angry at Maki for a bit. I was angry at Yoshi too. I figured maybe Shadow didn’t love me because of Yoshi. I didn’t hurt them. I doubt they’ll even remember what I did. Fortunately for all of us I was still well in my mind to know it wasn’t their fault my relationship was falling apart. However, I did blame myself rather harshly. Every negative thought I had about myself when I was younger came back with a vengeance.

Suddenly I wasn’t just ugly, I was a fat piece of shit. I was stupid and incompetent. I couldn’t even comprehend a simple request to leave Shadow alone. I was at the edge of insanity. I would cry myself to sleep wishing that I could go back. I hated myself in this world. I didn’t want to be Yoshi’s mom or Maki’s mom or Shadow’s baby mama. I wanted to die. I wanted to cease existing in this life and start a new one. I wanted to be reborn. Then I felt ashamed for wanting these things. I felt guilty for wanting to abandon my family that had done nothing wrong but love me.

My mind raced to thoughts of my mother. I don’t know how she endured such pain. She was abused by my father. This was before I was born. However, when she revealed this to me I was in a bit of shock. I love my father. I am his little princess. Even now, I know I’m his favorite. I couldn’t imagine him being this violent monster that beat my mother and raped her. They’re still married. My father has long since asked for forgiveness. He said he’ll die making things right with my mother. They’re happy now. Well, as happy as one can be I guess.

I took my mother’s past and used it as a beacon of hope. I held on to it tightly. If she could survive that, I could survive most anything. I am my mother’s daughter after all. Then my mind would race to the last moments of my time with Yoshi’s father. I was quite horrible to that man. That was an abusive relationship where I was the abuser. I thought ‘this is Karma. This is justice for the way I treated him’. I deserved my punishment. I spiraled deeper and deeper into my depression and self hate. Yoshi could hardly form correct sentences because I hardly spoke to him. Shadow was quite abusive towards him as well.

I saw myself quite clearly. I knew I had to change. I had to do something. This wasn’t the mom I wanted to be. I wanted to be the Pinterest mom. The one that had fun activities and cooked healthy meals for her kids. I wanted my kids to be proud of their mommy. Then I started to find clues of Shadow’s infidelity. He flirted with women callously. No matter what I said to him or how I begged. He defended himself by saying that it was all over messenger. He had never touched another woman so it wasn’t really cheating. That was it. I collapsed under the weight of it all. I don’t know if my mother was ever cheated on but I couldn’t believe that she was. The hope that I had drained. I couldn’t survive knowing Shadow wanted another woman more than me.

My thoughts suddenly traveled to the time my eldest sister had tried to kill herself. She had done so a couple of times. I only remember her crying. I remember my other sister urging me to tell her if something like this happened again. My eldest sister had reached out to me at the time. I was just a child. I didn’t know what to do. Luckily, my parents and sister intervened. She would have killed herself and it would have been my fault. I wouldn’t do that to anyone. I’d kill myself with out telling a soul. This way it would only be my fault.

I threw myself down the stairs once, hoping to injure myself. I needed to feel physical pain. I needed it to overpower the agony I felt inside. I laughed it off like some maniac. I started taking pills. I didn’t know which pills to take. My online search history was all about the most painless deaths, and the quickest suicides. I kept spending time with my children as if it were the last time I’d see them. After an argument, I thought, “This is it.” Shadow had left, he’d come home much later. I imagined him with some whore. I put my babies to sleep and I walked over to the bathroom. I took a bottle of something and swallowed all the pills.

I lay myself down besides the boys’ bed and passed out. I thought if I live, I’ll never try again. If I die, I won’t have to ever worry about anything. I wanted my kids to be the first to find me. How cruel and stupid of me. Shadow never came to check on me. He didn’t even know until after we’d broken up. I told him. I shouted it at him. To which he replied, “you should’ve done it right the first time.” Yes, we were quite awful to each other… After waking up from that night, I remember crying. I took a shower and cried in the shower. Even more ashamed at what I had done or tried to do. I looked at my kids and wondered how they would see me if I had died.

I won’t say it instantaneously changed my outlook on life. I was still very depressed and quite miserable. Yet, I fought it back with every ounce of energy I had within me. I refused to be that woman. I refused to make Shadow a widower and make him more of a pussy magnet than he already was. I refused to have my kids think of me as someone who gave up easily. I refused to give into that part of me. I kept on fighting until one day I woke up and I could breathe again. I saw the world bright and happy. I saw Shadow for the asshole he was. I saw my kids not as my burden but as my little lovely assholes. I have a lot to live for and I have a lot more to see.

I was lucky. I was stupid but I was lucky. Postpartum depression is very serious. It’s very scary and it’s very real. I don’t advise you to take my route. I’d say tell someone what you’re thinking and get help before it gets to be too late. Suicide is never the answer. It isn’t a way to end the pain instead it transfers that pain to someone else. Please call 1-800-273-8255 if you’re thoughts are anywhere near what mine were. Although I made it out okay, I think that suicide attempt did kill a part of me – the part that I didn’t want to be. I still have her buried deep inside the corridors of my mind. I keep her there as a reminder of the pain I’ve suffered and survived. And day by day, smile by smile, I’m killing her as softly and gently as she almost killed me.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s