My Childhood Trauma Didn't Make Me Stronger. It Made Me A People Pleaser. It Made Me Forgive Way Too

Fighting with your own mind for as basic thing as eating, is so fucked up and brutally sad.

TW: mention of suicide attempt

My therapist is proud of me!

This was the first time she explicitly told me how proud she is of me and how far I've come.

While I've had a lot of people tell me that they're proud of me but somehow, hearing this from someone who knows me a lot differently than others, knows all those things that I refuse to share with others, understands my thought process, it just made all the difference.

As she was telling me about the growth I've had, I couldn't hold back the tears.

She told me that I seemed more confident, sure of myself and stronger than ever before. It was really overwhelming.

I'm really glad to have found her and to have come so far. From attempting to take my own life last year to not depending on anyone for my happiness and being content with my life as it is. It's been one hell of a journey and I'm just happy to be alive to experience this.

Never give up, you'll get there eventually.

Low and low, I sink

lo and behold, I crumble.

On nights like this, I try to remember to be kinder to myself even if that kindness feels so wrong.

TW: suicide attempt

A year ago, tonight was the night, I tried to kill myself by overdosing on my antidepressant and antianxiety medication.

There are a lot of parallels between that night and tonight: I was alone in my room, I had smoked, I thought about how lonely I am even after being surrounded by people I love and who love me.

I was stuck in an overthinking loop that night, I just couldn't get out of it. My mind kept on telling me that there's only one way to end it so that's what I did. I tried to end everyone's misery (I thought I was a burden on everyone, that they would be better off without me) so I did what I did.

I ended up being a burden.

I got into emergency, then ICU, which was the loneliest I've ever felt.

After being at home, listening to my parents taunting me every chance they got, I kind of got better.

I'm not always happy but I'm also not crying my eyes out every night.

I'm just okay. Getting by.

I thought I'll cry tonight but nothing so far. Does that mean I've grown? Or am I stronger? Or I just don't care anymore.

I can't feel the hurt or the pain,

only the excruciating absence of happiness.

gave me a personality disorder

— In the Future, Jay Hulme, in '100 Queer Poems, an anthology' (2022)

[text ID: I've forgotten what my face looks like / but can easily describe my spine. / The way it bends under pressure, / the way it curves, but will not break.]

👁️ ✨