When I was 31, I attempted to end my life. I had done some things in regretted. I was broken, difficult, and didn't deserve to be in this world. I had disappointed everyone I knew, especially my mother. I figured everyone would be better off without me, because that's the message I received growing up.
I had 0 support after my attempt. My mother told me and everyone else that it was only for attention, and that no one should help or support me because it's just feeding into my need for attention. (Which is super funny, because i had such severe social anxiety that I couldnt give a book report in hogh school without panicking, sweating, and almost oassing out. But somehow I juse loved being the center of attention…) She told everyone I was dangerous and basically unworthy. The woman didn't even come to the hospital despite me begging her and needing a cell phone charger. Yet here I sit in a hospital bed telling my mother it's okay that she's not coming and that I understand. Feeding her emotions once again. She told me that if she let me come live with her, she was going to kill herself, but knowing I'd be homeless without her allowing me to come home. It's the best decision she unintentially made for me.
I moved states in desperation back to my home state. Almost attempted a second time. I took myself to the ER. They referred me to a short term adult disability home. Who referred me to a high risk counseling office. When when I walked in, the first thing I said to him was that I needed to find out what was wrong with me. That I don't understand why I act this way, and I need my mother to talk to me again. I told him i was a bad person, that I've always had issues and that I was an out of control kid. Blah blah blah. Basically this therapist got me to understand that I wasn't the problem. That there was some generational trauma going on. That my mother's side of the family has such toxic and abusive behaviors that continue to be passed down. I was not broken. I was an undiagnosed autistic child that was being belittled and made fun of by her own mother. It took me almost dying, twice, to understand that I deserved better. To understand that these types of behaviors can and do run in families. Sorry about typos!
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