F*CK NORMAL

As I go through and transfer my handwritings to this digital form, I sometimes come across letters of complete hatred for myself. These letters/notes/writings are proof of my Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. As I heal, learn and accept myself as is, I forget how deep and dark the twisty roads of my mind can be. I forget about the anguish and the horror I bring to myself at times. Last year I was homeless, in a 6-mo old relationship and had given my children to their fathers. January of 2024 I wrote this:

I don’t know when, nor do I know how, but I am certain I will die by my own hand, or by refusing to go on. I am at my wits end. At the very end of my rope. When Marc finally realizes how much of a drain I am… and I can make sure Eve is situated…and that the girls are in therapy…and the letters are all written… Shit! There’s a lot to do and that ‘stuff’ is what always holds my progress up, so… I will begin to finish this shit. I will begin to prepare for my last day.

First of all – I am finished giving people a key to my heart. My ‘people who give a shit & who will actually be affected by my death’ List is quickly depleting. Elijah has naturally moved on with his life as he’s gotten older. Leila hates me because I left her. And Eve is broadening her acceptance of people and their love…Ugh… everyone is right, they deserve so much more than what I can give them…

Reading this broke my heart. Suicide Ideation is a real and terrifying thing. When you’re in the depths of its grips, it feels as if dieing is the only way to breathe. Your mind is so backwards it makes you believe that killing yourself will be doing everyone you know a favor, and they’d be better off with you gone. Logically, I know this is not true, but you couldn’t convince the above author of that. The mind-frame of the above author was broken.

Hurt

Terrified

Scared

Angry

Hopeless

Lost

The woman who wrote that is still me. It is January of 2025 now, and I no longer consider those words truth, but I remember writing them clearly. I relate to those words completely. I wrote them wholeheartedly. I am still broken.

But I am learning that death is not the goal. Living is.

Grateful,

Nix