Thank God it was sunny when I left the house. It meant my red puffy eyes were hidden from view. Today is a bad day. There were triggers, nothing major but my afternoon was spent crying. Crying for the old me. Crying for the way things were. Crying for the version of me who was capable and reliable. That night I did die. I descended to a different place. A place of medication which makes you fat and tired. A place where people fear you. A place where you are always going to be remembered as the one who tried to kill herself. A place where confidential conversations are shared "in love".
I tried to hold it together until I was alone. Desperately trying to keep up the appearance of recovery. It didn't work like that though. I almost made it but as my friend left I couldn't help out. Our friendship kind of illustrates to me how much I have lost. I'm still angry. I know none of this is her fault. It's all just such a mess. I wish I could share openly once again. Oh how I wish I could be confident in sharing this. With the hope you may understand. I'm scared of letting people in again. Their attitudes to mental health unchanged. Still believing I am faithless. Still believing I am a danger. Hopefully today I will be vindicated. Perhaps it will be over. It will never be over in my head and heart. Forever I am scarred by the attitudes of people, by my time in hospital, by how my mind continues to be a target for the devil.
My daughter studies her bible each night. Yesterday her study was based on God knowing the truth about you, so trust in Him if you are falsely accused. I hope and pray I remember this. Whatever they think of me. God knows. God knows.
Pretty much exactly 5 months after my last church attendance I returned today. Since my last time I had only seen 3 people from the congregation face to face. People who live in my town. Who I've seen at least twice a week for years, I'd seen so few of them. Children had grown. Newborn babies now starting to move. Barely bumps now earth side. There were a few new faces too. We decided to go today because we had been invited for Sunday lunch by a couple from church. The sweet, kind hearted, godly doctor who was on duty the weekend I was first taken to hospital. I didn't give myself a choice this morning. I'd set up an excuse not to go for lunch already. Our car was broken. It was true, it was, but I knew it would be fixed in time to go. So I got up and we went. I'd spoken with my counsellor about not feeling it was my home any longer. That I wasn't part of the fellowship anymore. That physically I didn't know where to sit. Our usual seats, middle,front, with ...
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