Posted by Racer on April 14, 2000, at 21:31:13
In reply to Re: Suicide, posted by In Need on April 14, 2000, at 15:31:25
I, too, was emotionally abused as a child, as were many of us here. Some people on this board can tell you that I sounded very similar when I first found this place. It may not have given me joy, but it certainly gave me heartfelt support which sustained me on my search for relief from the depression I was experiencing.
Now that I've told you my qualifications, I'll tell you some of what sustained me when things were at their worst:
My cats would do things that were cute. Admittedly, they also were pains in the you know where, but sometimes they'd be cute. Like the little idiot cat who would surf around the rug with one paw stretched out in front of him, his nose to the ground, his butt in the air, and trace the paisley design! Or the midsized idiot cat who would lie on her back with all four feet in the air, or carry socks around in her mouth talking to them. Then there was the monster cat who would get into bed with me and purr me to sleep every night. If I woke up in the middle of the night, he'd run to the head of the bed, crawl under the covers, cuddle close to me and purr for all he was worth until I got quiet again. Some nights, I swear he'd sigh as though he was sick of this onerous job, but start purring me to sleep anyway.
My computer brought me hope, too. Every time I found a problem and fixed it, or wrote something clear enough for a newby to follow, I felt a great deal of satisfaction. Some nights I'd work all night, simply because it was the only way to sustain that dopamine high. Many times in my life, I've found that feelings of competance precede feelings of joy.
I sew, which also brings calm and peace and satisfaction to me. In fact, anything imaginative helps me when depression starts. All I have to do is force myself to ignore the tape of my mother's voice saying that I never finish anything / am not careful enough / cut too many corners / need to be neater / et cetera. That's a tough order, but I'm learning to do it. The fact is, it's intensely satisfying for me to see the good work which I do, in fact, do. My sewing is good enough - a concept my profoundly unhappy mother has never discovered. My mother no longer sews because she considers that she is 'not good enough' at it. I still sew because making all those mistakes, and cutting all those corners, and ending up with all those unfinished items TAUGHT me to sew well enough to take the time to do it and gain the satisfaction from a well pressed seam, or a nice buttonhole.
Joy is elusive. Happiness? Who can say. Neither of them are butterflies, you can't go out with a net and catch them. The best we can do is live our lives on the lookout for them, waiting by the side of the road. If we look down at the ground in despair at all times, we'll never see the joy and happiness smiling shyly at us from amongst the violets.
Here's some actual wisdom, or what passes for it in my pathetic brain:
If you find that the people around you are emotionally abusive, and that you 'seem to attract' emotionally abusive people to you, check out what you do to make yourself attractive to them. Mostly such people are bullies, they don't want you to stand up for yourself, they don't want you to disagree. The only way to stop attracting this type is to learn to stand up for yourself. How, you ask? FAKE IT! Honestly, I learned to fake it, and it was frightening as anything I've ever done. Eventually, it was second nature, then one day, I realized I wasn't faking it at all. I'd really taken it inside me. That's not easy, and it does help to have someone offering acceptance and support to you. In my case, I didn't have that. In your case, at least there's a forum like this one to offer something to help you.
The other thing that helped me was a depression support group. Now, you're not going to find perfect people there, and everyone may spend a lot of time talking about themselves, but those few minutes when the whole group talks about and to you will help. Take a friend with you the first time, or go to one far from home the first time, whatever makes you most comfortable. Just give it a try. It took a crowbar to pry me out of the house the first time, because I was so scared by it, but it helped me so much. By the third time I went, I looked forward to it all week, because it was a place I could show up as is: no shower? No problem! In pajamas because I couldn't get out of bed? And? At least I made it, and everyone gave me the cheers that showing up really deserved.
Good luck to you, and remember: life is hungry. Did you know that everyone who jumps out a window or off a bridge lands with torn up hands from scrabbling to catch hold of something to stop the fall? I think many suicides are not really trying to die, but only to stop the pain and suffering of life. Maybe it's only our relative affluence and fortune that gives us the ease necessary for the sort of despair you describe. If we really had to fight for food, maybe we wouldn't have time to think of how miserable we are? I don't know. I only know that my heart goes out to you. I hope that you find here some of the support I have found here.
poster:Racer
thread:29931
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/20000411/msgs/30045.html