10 reasons not to kill myself

*Trigger Warning*

I am writing this post without being absolutely sure if I will publish it.

After giving it some thought and running a couple of Google searches, I have pulled out some key themes that could be reason for someone not to kill themselves.

I will comment on each as it relates to my situation.

Reason no #1 Family – nope

Well as it stands I don’t have a relationship with my (abusive) parents or siblings. I was close with one of my brothers and his wife, but around 2 months ago they cut contact with me. My youngest brother told me that the reason for this is that I apparently went “apeshit” at my sister in law. Which is absolute lies. What actually happened was I was firm in putting a clear boundary in place about a topic of conversation and she didn’t like that. The saddest part was how easy it was for my brother to cut me out of his life.

Reason no #2 – Children – nope

I have no children of my own. I am now 38 -nearly 39 so intending to have a child on my own would be risky, putting my and an unborn child’s health at risk. Also, would I want to bring a child into a world where they don’t have any extended family (grandparents, aunties, uncles and cousins) to love and care for them?

Reason no #3 – Romantic relationships – nope

I have a boyfriend right now but we are not in a committed relationship. History has proved that I have zero ability to choose a suitable romantic partner or maintain a healthy relationship. I am more than confident that I am too broken and damaged to be long term relationship material. I do not see a happy ending on the horizon for myself and if anything, my biggest deepest wounds are a result of my many failed relationships.

Reason no #4 – Friends – nope

I can count on one hand how many friends I have and they are mainly people from back home. It’s nearly a decade since I moved away and due to the distance and people getting on with their lives, there isn’t much friendship to be maintained. Unless they know about my blog they will be oblivious to any of what is going on with me right now.

Reason no #5 – Pets – nope

Leo is amazing. I absolutely adore my cat and he makes my daily life a little more bearable, but I wouldn’t say he gives me much of an incentive to endure the burden of life. If anything, I feel like now that his health issues are completely resolved (he was a rescue cat and came to me with kidney failure, etc), he doesn’t need me anymore. If anything were to happen to me, he would easily find a new loving home to enjoy the rest of his life.

Reason no #6 – Work / Career – nope

On the face of it, my job is comfortable and stable. I have no problems with my boss or my immediate team members. Things look good on paper but the reality is I am entirely stagnant and under-utilised in my role. It’s a bit like a catch 22 situation. Changing jobs is NOT an option for me. Doing so would be utterly de-stabilising and detrimental to my health and well-being. However, the longer I stay is increasingly damaging to my sense of efficacy and self-worth. It is not about ambition and money for me, its about feeling useful and doing work that is meaningful. I am so ashamed that I do not have the courage or the strength to leave my current job.

Reason no #7 – Higher purpose (or a bigger cause / service to humanity) – nope

I had to pause on this one. It would be nice to have a higher purpose or a cause bigger than myself to focus on. Many times I have thought about fostering or adopting cats and / or children – however, the thought of having dependents makes me anxious. I am vulnerable enough myself, with no support network or family to rely on – so the idea of taking on more dependents just to make myself feel better would be an irresponsible and selfish thing to do.

Reason no #8 – Pleasure & hedonism – nope

I have been there, done that, got the t-shirt. This was probably my reason for living when I was in my 20s. I had loads of fun and made plenty of good and bad memories along the way. Towards the end of this era it stopped being fun and I became suicidal. And after that I was just numb for a while. Incidentally, I eventually had an near death experience due to an un-related health condition which gave me a bit of a wake-up call. I cleaned up my act and focused on my education and career. I didn’t like the person I was back then so I do not see me going back to thrill-seeking and dopamine chasing – unless the end goal is to kill myself, in which case I suppose I could find creative ways to achieve that. I am really not that person anymore, so it is highly unlikely anyways.

Reason no #9 – Travel – nope

Travelling sounds nice but even trips to the beach makes me sad because I do not have friends or a romantic partner to share it with. Also, I have PTSD around travelling abroad so I would have to really trust someone before I can feel safe to travel with them. To cut a long story short, a trip to my ultimate dream destination in Mexico was ruined by an abusive ex-partner. At one point I feared for my life because he was going to through me out of the car in the middle of nowhere. I’d like to get excited about travel again, but since then I haven’t traveled on my own and when I traveled with someone I was anxious and resorted to drinking a lot of alcohol to be able to cope.

Reason no #10 – Ending up paralised, disabled or incapacitated – yes

The one incentive for me not to kill myself is the thought of the scenario where I failed to complete suicide (by whatever method) and instead I end up incapacitated to the extent that my body or mind isn’t functional and I am entirely dependent on poorly treated and poorly paid humans working for our national health services to provide my basic needs and personal care. That would be a living hell. So my thoughts are, if THAT version of reality is a living hell then that means my current reality can’t be so terrible. That means I have my health and (somewhat) functional mind to look after myself and take care of my basic needs, which is better than not having them. I’d rather not make my situation worse than it is.

To conclude: I realise that the title of this post was misleading because I couldn’t find 10 reasons. I could find one reason which is something I guess.

I’ll end by saying sorry to anyone who has been triggered or negatively affected by this post. Please be advised that I am writing this as an attempt to get better. I am writing this with a tiny grain of hope that in doing so I might connect with readers or other bloggers who can relate and are going through a similar experience.

And that is all I have to say on the matter, for now.

Love Fool

So what have I been doing since my previous post whereby I thought I had found the “love of my life?”

Well first of all, I didn’t because he wasn’t.

The first month or so was lovely. He took me on holiday and spoiled me for my birthday and valentines day. That was back in February. Then in March the pandemic happened and we ended up going into lock-down together, in my house. Our relationship didn’t survive the lock down.

My final good bye / closure email to him was towards the end of May.

Nothing awful happened, but after having plenty of time to process things I can certainly say that he caused me unnecessary emotional pain. Long story-short, he pulled away emotionally and physically at the same time, actively refused to end the relationship and prevented me from moving on.

He kept me in a limbo and dragged things out for over a month. During this time he was back living at his own place. I tried many times to talk to him about our relationship, but he refused phone calls and was always quick to shut me down. I suffered weeks of small talk via text and uncertainty about what was going to happen.

It goes without saying that inducing this level of relationship uncertainty for Autistic people is basically like torture.

The final conversation happened when he finally let me talk to him on the phone. As I was despairing to him, he responded something along the lines of “You want me to put you out of your misery? It’s over, we are finished.

Nice guy.

I ask myself what I have learned from this and I don’t really think I have learned anything. I think that my trust and abandonment wounds have grown deeper. I am left without any trust in my own judgement.

I feel stupid for believing anything he said about me being the only person he has ever loved and wanted to settle down with and phrases like, e.g. “when you know, you know”.

So where am I now?

I do have a boyfriend now. We are a couple of months into the relationship and I am not sure.

At the beginning I was absolutely smitten. Over the last couple of weeks or so I am spending more time feeling confused, sick to my stomach, crying and fearful of impending rejection and abandonment.

I don’t know if he is good for me or bad for me because there is no way I can trust my own judgement.

A product of years of abuse, relationship failures and poor life choices…so I can’t imagine there ever being a happy ending in the horizon for me.

The saddest part in all of this is knowing that I can never feel safe and truly loved in the arms of a good man, without that creeping sense that it’s just temporary illusion and I will end up where as I always do.


Life Update: Resurrection

After months of hiatus I am pleased to resurrect my blog and start writing again. From around December last year I took the decision to stop writing and to make my blog private.

I had convinced myself that I wouldn’t write again…but something stopped me from pushing that delete button and I continued to pay for the subscription. I am so glad I kept it because now my desire and need to write again is back (with a vengeance).

My reasons for stopping are complex but if I had to put it simply I would say I was worried what would happen if my then boyfriend (now ex) ever found it. I was also concerned about colleagues finding it, and to be fair I am still concerned.

There are loads of reasons for me not to write. By this I mean, there are reasons why writing so candidly and publically is a bad idea. I have questioned myself a lot on this (and will write more on that later) but the upshot is, this medium really works for me.

More importantly, my mental health has taken a massive beating and for the sake of my well-being I need to write again.

I already feel better for writing my first post in months, and I am really looking forward to getting re-connecting with my blogger community on twitter and WordPress.

Found him

Just over a month ago I published Dear Soulmate. Without realising it at the time, that post marked a major milestone in my recovery journey. At the time of writing I was starting to believe that I was lovable and deserving of love.

Last weekend I met someone really fucking amazing. He is gorgeous, kind and loving.

We have so much in common but most importantly we had an instant connection. We didn’t have to play the weird dating game thing. We knew we wanted to be together from the first day we met.

It’s early days but in his own words, “when you know, you know”.

The problem I have is I feel like none of this is real. I am terrified that I’ll wake up to realise that all of this is a dream.

He knows that I have PTSD because of my abusive ex, but I haven’t felt brave enough to talk openly about it yet. As far as I know, he hasn’t found my blog.

I am a bit worried about him finding my blog. My reasons are complicated.

I said to him that I can’t stop him from finding it but I do think needs to consider the implication of reading something painful, and something even connected to him or our relationship.

This blog has been a crutch for me during my darkest hours but I do wonder if it is time to let it go now.

I don’t want to fuck anything up so I need to think more on that.

I am still a bit broken and I am scared but I decided (before I even met him in person) to have faith in him and see where it goes.

For the first time this year I am truly happy and inspired. I am feeling so much stronger and my “bad days” are few and far between at the moment. Hence why I have been posting less frequently.

So yeah, things are good right now.

Thank you universe, finally you cut me some slack!

The Great Homecoming

This isn’t a happy story. Last month I drove north to Scotland to spend a week with friends and family.

I needed a break from work and life but with my PTSD, I still don’t feel safe enough to go abroad on my own. I thought a trip to Scotland would be good as its familiar but still a change of scenery. I thought that driving up and staying with friends and family would give me the flexibility to see more people and places without stressing about an itinerary.

I do not have a relationship with either of my parents and I intentionally kept the trip a secret from most of my family so I can peacefully visit my homeland without any kind of drama and bullshit.

How wrong was I.

My trip was so stressful that I cut it short and only stayed for 3 nights.

There are various reasons why it was bad but the most important thing that I need to write about how my experience with a particular friend – which was really confusing for me – didn’t end well.

We fell out.

I have been putting off writing about this because I have been trying to process what went wrong.

I think I am ready now, so here goes.

The original plan was to see my friend for his birthday and he wanted me to stay with him for the majority of my time in Scotland. We were gonna game, eat good food, drink and be merry. During this time I was going to squeeze in a few visits with other friends and spend some quality time with my favourite cousin who I absolutely adore.

In the days leading up to my visit, he was telling me that he was spending a fair amount of time redecorating and cleaning his house. He did some really lovely things like replace the bedding and he bought me slippers and a fleecy dressing gown to make sure I am comfortable staying with him.

He also mentioned he was replacing the mattress and I wondered if that was really necessary.

A few times I had to say to him that I thought he was overdoing it.

Anyways, I drive north and arrive at his house really late.

The first thing that struck me was how cold it was and he house smelt strongly of nicotine and something else that wasn’t good. Cigarette smoke on its own makes me feel really nauseous and I know he did his best to air the apartment but to me, the smell was unbearable.

The carpets were soaking wet from him cleaning them but still covered in dog hair.

I realised that despite my friends sweet gestures and hard work the house was really unclean and I didn’t feel great about having to stay there for majority of my trip.

I started feeling anxious but it was too late to do anything about it so the best thing I could do was get a good night sleep before thinking about how to approach the situation. I had no trouble sleeping that night because he made me an insanely strong alcoholic drink and it wasn’t long before I had to get into bed and was out like a light till morning.

To cut a long story short – I didn’t spend another night at his house and it wasn’t because I was brave enough to tell my friend that the smell and uncleanliness was unbearable to me.

We ended up falling out.

How it happened was weird.

So I am sitting in the pub waiting for him to join me. It is his birthday.

I should rewind and mention that my emotional state was incredibly fragile. The reason being I was anxious and heart broken. The day before I saw my cousin and she came out to me that she had a heroin addiction. I watched her chase the dragon and wept.

She said if she wasn’t so numb from the heroin she would cry too. I promised to her that I would spend as much time with her as possible whilst I was in Scotland.

Fast forward to sitting in the pub waiting for my friend.

I am in flight mode.

I am an emotional wreck from seeing my cousin.

As I sat there waiting I decided that I am not going to stay any longer and that I am going to travel back home today.

So now and I need to break the news to my friend and my cousin who both think they have a few more days to spend with me.

Still waiting for my friend so I text my cousin to say I’ll pop by to say goodbye before I drive home.

I wait for her response.

I think to myself she is going to be really disappointed because I promised we’d have a girly night in watching chic flicks and eating chocolate.

My friend turns up.

I don’t know what to say to him. I am glad that I don’t have to tell him that I can’t stay in his house because of the state of cleanliness.

I talk to him about my cousin.

My eyes are welling up. I am shaking.

I tell him that I’m going to see my cousin before I go home and that I am waiting for her to message me.

I can’t find any other words. I feel awkward.

I check my phone a few times.

He makes a few remarks which upset me. Most of them were stupid but when he pointed out that I am constantly on my phone I completely blew up at him and burst out into tears.

It was a mess. I couldn’t sit there crying in public. I felt like someone was strangling me.

I needed to get away from him.

All I wanted was to be back in my own home, in my pyjamas and cuddling my cat. Where I feel safe.

I ended up spending the night with my cousin before going home the next morning.

After I escaped my friend, I did a bit of shopping for my cousin and then we spent the rest of the evening having our girly night in like I promised we would. We stayed up till the early hours whilst she chased the dragon, chain smoked and opened up her heart to me about the last few years of her life.

The drive home was so long and I thought long and hard about the my fall out with my friend.

My friend was so kind and generous and tried his best for me but I didn’t feel safe around him and I didn’t enjoy spending time with him. I am sorry for blowing up at my friend but this is how things played out.

To wind up the story, the entire trip was a terrible idea.

Scotland itself is full of so much pain for me. Driving around my old haunts brought back a lot of bad memories and made me very sad.

It was supposed to be a safe and familiar trip back home but this time was very different from the other times I have visited. It was like I was forced to face every single fucking demon from my past. The many reasons I escaped.

On top of this all, if I was a little bit broken from re-living the traumatic memories of my distant past, seeing my cousin as a heroin addict finished the job of completely tearing me up.

Of course, me being me, I try to rationalise all of this and the best I can think of was that this was the first solo trip since the police took “him” away. The chronic anxiety, emotional fragility and having to re-live traumatic events of my distant past is definitely linked to the PTSD.

Anyways, that’s about as much as I can write about the matter.