"(Oh god, how did I say that to my mom)"
Notes to Self are longer journal entries from Seven Yrs Ago. Read The Middle for more on breaking down and Sticky for cluing your parents in on your depression. For understanding people with suicidal thoughts, try Anna Borges’ article in NR News: Release the Sad. I was 21 in early 2014.
I just told my mom that I have suicidal thoughts. Sometimes. Not as general and as frequently as before. It was after a long discussion of
Why occ. therapy? You don’t need it. Can’t focus? Just sit down and do it, that’s what I do
No more counseling, I mean, why are you doing it? Because they tell you?
Why do you feel bad about Dad? Your dad will drag you down… you need to get a good job to support your dad financially
[After I said I’d rather do counseling than Italy and I don’t want to go back to the 5 year program] I was willing to give the $ to go to Italy bc that would help you with architecture and now you don’t wanna do that; I don’t know why we let you go to architecture school in the 1st place
You need to get a job that pays well that you can support yourself with [in conjunction with the belief that she doesn’t want me to depend on counseling or people whenever I have a ‘little problem’]
I went to a lecture by a Harvard professor about the millennial generation because I want to understand you, and you guys keep wanting instant results [I said that I had more problems than that, and even though I’m part of the generation, I’m not like other kids, so don’t compare me to a statistic.]
[Post suicide confession bc I was trying to explain that I’m in counseling and that it’s working bc I had and still have suicidal thoughts]
You should be on medication by now then. Serotonin. Exercise?
[I explain I don’t want to be dependent on meds, that I’m coming off this depression thing and even though I’m not at the start, I’m still there. Maybe down the line if I still have them thoughts, but hopefully not for long. Oh, also my thoughts are not like “Oh, I want to cut myself,” but more like “If I die, it’s okay.” (Oh god, how did I say that to my mom)]
YOU THINK that if you die ‘it’s okay?’ I went back to school for you, I still live here for you, you’re my everything. And look at your family, your cousins brag about you, your uncle, you are the standard. Count your blessings, look at people in the Philippines, they lost everything and they keep going, keep surviving. Whenever you have those thoughts, think about all the people who love you, whose lives would be changed if you were dead.
Now my mom supports my counseling bc she sees that if I don’t get my major emotional stuff fixed now, I’m going to grow up with no self-confidence and less independence. “It’s hard to be an independent woman but you have to be the best you can be. That way when a guy comes along, you know he’s going to love you for you, not because he needs to take care of you.”
Then she said a bunch of mom things about how beautiful and smart and talented I am and ladeedah, this was a good conversation and I am so eloquent now, not like before.
I love my mom. I really do.
For commentary seven years later, go here.