I will not say that I am sorry for attempting suicide.
I will not apologize for having bipolar disorder, OCD, BPD, or PTSD.
I will not be the one to apologize for being sexually abused and assaulted.
I will not say that I am sorry that you missed all of this, when it was happening right under your damn nose.
I have spent the last three years living in my own personal hell, with no one but Satan himself to talk to. I allowed myself to be tortured, humiliated, talked down to, mocked, and abused. I made the decision this week, that dammit I am done being the victim. I chose happiness. I walked away from a situation that was draining my mind and heart and soul completely.
And because I chose myself this once, I am being faulted on all sides.
Tonight, I called the National Suicide Prevention hotline and sobbed to a woman named Heidi for half an hour. I begged her to give me a reason to stay. She has been the only person to tell me I am not crazy, and that I am capable of doing more than the people around me think. She gave me the numbers to multiple support groups and talked me off the ledge that I first stood on nine months ago.
When I tried to talk to my dad about this, I was once again shut out. Shamed. Because he was tired. Good Lord, aren’t we all? But you can’t spare fifteen minutes to talk to your daughter who has been living in hell all alone for years?
I’m throwing my hands up in the air, guys. I don’t know what to do. I have no clue. Someone please tell me what it is I need to do to get my family to understand that they are only making things worse. Somebody, give me some advice, because I am drowning here. I am slipping below these waves so fast that I don’t know if I will ever get back out.
My head is not above water tonight, I can tell you that. Somebody just please help me.