L
Lockpon
Well-known member
I'm currently bawling my eyes out because my FP/partner is stressed and I can't help in any way at all.
Of course I'd never tell him this, and thank God he's at his own place right now so he doesn't have to see me, but fucking hell. This pain is horrible. I feel like I've been stabbed.
And all the while I feel so horribly bad for my partner I also feel really guilty and like a disgusting human being because I'm the one crying about it. What fucking right do I have to be so upset when he's the one actually struggling?
It gets worse because there have been times he's been stressed and I felt so sad he was stressed I was unable to hide it. There were times I cried and he actually had to comfort me.
What. The. Fuck. How could I do that do him? That's so unbelievably cruel. He's the one dealing with the worst of it and how fucking dare I make him have to give up some emotional energy just to deal with me. I despise myself for that. I truly feel bad for him because he's dating me (nearly 2 years now) but I'm too selfish to let him go.
This emotional pain is so agonising it's giving me thoughts of wishing I didn't exist and yet at the same time I had 2 recent scares I was going to die (severe sepsis, followed by worries of a brain tumour) and I desperately wanted to live. So, what the fuck?
In my delirious severe sepsis state where I could barely talk, walk, or breathe (lobar pneumonia sepsis) I still forced myself up and banged on my father's door to wake up and demanded he take me to hospital. I could very well have just stayed in that bed and died of septic shock and I would've been too delirious to even know how to ask for help. Due to the delirium I don't even remember any of this, I just woke up in hospital and was later told of it by my family.
So clearly there's a desperate instinct in me to live. Yet I've deliberately risked my life so many times, even had suicide attempts. So, what the fuck? It makes no sense to me. I can't even decide if I want to live or die. I guess I'm a coward and living is torture but I'm too scared to die.
I also think I don't want to make anyone sad by dying, but that thought is soon followed by "well, maybe they'd be sad at first but in the long run realise it's much better you're not around", so... I'm conflicted there too.
Sorry this is a bit long. Anyone relate? Any thoughts or anything at all would be really appreciated. Thank you for taking the time to read.
(Note: I'm definitely not going to attempt suicide. It was only days ago I was relieved I had no brain tumour. So I hope expressing thoughts related to suicidal feelings is okay.)
Of course I'd never tell him this, and thank God he's at his own place right now so he doesn't have to see me, but fucking hell. This pain is horrible. I feel like I've been stabbed.
And all the while I feel so horribly bad for my partner I also feel really guilty and like a disgusting human being because I'm the one crying about it. What fucking right do I have to be so upset when he's the one actually struggling?
It gets worse because there have been times he's been stressed and I felt so sad he was stressed I was unable to hide it. There were times I cried and he actually had to comfort me.
What. The. Fuck. How could I do that do him? That's so unbelievably cruel. He's the one dealing with the worst of it and how fucking dare I make him have to give up some emotional energy just to deal with me. I despise myself for that. I truly feel bad for him because he's dating me (nearly 2 years now) but I'm too selfish to let him go.
This emotional pain is so agonising it's giving me thoughts of wishing I didn't exist and yet at the same time I had 2 recent scares I was going to die (severe sepsis, followed by worries of a brain tumour) and I desperately wanted to live. So, what the fuck?
In my delirious severe sepsis state where I could barely talk, walk, or breathe (lobar pneumonia sepsis) I still forced myself up and banged on my father's door to wake up and demanded he take me to hospital. I could very well have just stayed in that bed and died of septic shock and I would've been too delirious to even know how to ask for help. Due to the delirium I don't even remember any of this, I just woke up in hospital and was later told of it by my family.
So clearly there's a desperate instinct in me to live. Yet I've deliberately risked my life so many times, even had suicide attempts. So, what the fuck? It makes no sense to me. I can't even decide if I want to live or die. I guess I'm a coward and living is torture but I'm too scared to die.
I also think I don't want to make anyone sad by dying, but that thought is soon followed by "well, maybe they'd be sad at first but in the long run realise it's much better you're not around", so... I'm conflicted there too.
Sorry this is a bit long. Anyone relate? Any thoughts or anything at all would be really appreciated. Thank you for taking the time to read.
(Note: I'm definitely not going to attempt suicide. It was only days ago I was relieved I had no brain tumour. So I hope expressing thoughts related to suicidal feelings is okay.)