Discussion in 'Suicidal Thoughts and Feelings' started by pither, Jan 21, 2010.

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  1. pither

    pither Well-Known Member

    My life has finally taken on the full form of a nightmare- literally.

    For the past few weeks my subconscious has decided to torture me by taking away my one true and full escape from the pain that has been consuming my day. I have had a recurring dream of a past event in my life that has obviously left scars- both figuratively and physically.

    MY dream has been about the night I first realized I wanted to die. I was maybe 13 or possibly 14 and my mom had been stressed out to the point of tears earlier in the day so after she had left for her third shift job my dad decided to take matters into his own hands. I'm not going to explain to you all of what he did, just know that he only hit my brother once and all the other pain was inflicted by his words.

    What I will tell you is after he had sent us screaming and crying up to our rooms, I sat alone in the dark listening to my siblings wails for hours as my dad trashed the house in rage below us.

    I'm the oldest of five and I have never felt so helpless in my entire life. I'm the big sister, it's my job to protect my younger siblings and I did nothing. Nothing to stop him from hitting my brother in the face, nothing to shield their ears as my father's thunderous screams told us we didn't deserve to live in his house and how we were all worthless and better off dead. AND I COULD DO NOTHING as my siblings cried that they were sorry and that they wanted our mother and that they were scared.

    I had no idea how much pain I could be in, how much words could truly hurt until that moment when I held the razor in my hand my siblings voices beating on my ears.

    So now that my depression is returning full force, my mind has decided to really bring out the skeletons in my closet. I see no point in living with this pain if it's just going to come back again and again. I can't keep reliving that night or it'll just kill me anyways. I just want to die, I just want it to be over so I can sleep in peace.
  2. Sadeyes

    Sadeyes Staff Alumni

    You were a child and could not defend your siblings...may I suggest you forgive yourself???? J
  3. Robin

    Robin Guest

    I'm a bit torn at the moment, I used to believe that anyone could be reasoned with, until me and a friend from SF visited another friend for the night. No matter how much reason we used why as a child she could not have helped her mother she got more and more upset.

    The fact remains, that if a 5 yr old came to you with a similar story, or even a 16 yr old, am pretty sure they'd be gasping for breathe as you gave them a really big hug.

    I think you are ok to forgive yourself for whatever sickness raged through your father, or I shall forgive you until you can :)
  4. molotov

    molotov Well-Known Member

    I agree: not your fault, at ALL. I am so sorry that happened to you. How are your siblings now? Have you talked about any of this with them? Are you still in contact with your father? I guess those are prying questions, you don't have to answer them if you're not comfortable.. or my PM box is open, as they say.

    Have you considered, or done, talking to a counselor and seeing if some of this might be PTSD? I guess that may sound a bit weird, I know it was not like he ran you over with a bus or something, but trauma is trauma as far as your brain is concerned.. you're having flashbacks to a horrible experience and they are causing you a ton of pain, and that is something you can and should be working out with a counselor.

    And please know that you're definitely, definitely not alone! (I wish I didn't have to say that but unfortunately your post is sparking some memories for me and I imagine for some other people here too.)

    take it easy (hug) keep talking it out
  5. pither

    pither Well-Known Member

    I'm 18 and still living with my father and family. I haven't spoken to my siblings about that particular event in a few years and the fact that the memories are coming back frankly baffles me. My father is a complicated person to say the least- let's just say he frequently plays a role in my depression. And not because he's violent, but because he's a hypocrite and an asshole and a terrible father.

    Looking back I wish I would have done something rather than just sit there- I could have stood up to him or crept into my siblings rooms to comfort them. But I didn't, instead I cut myself and thought about suicide.

    I told my mother about the dreams this morning and as soon as I told her she called to find me somebody to go and see. I don't think she has ever really forgiven my father and I don't think I will either-

    And the worst part of all this is I don't think he would even remember it, and then I think he would deny he ever did it or that I was stretching the truth. He has said that he isn't abusive, that he lived through "real" abuse. My dad may not hit me or beat me, but he has certainly done something- It may not be his hand directly but the scars on my arms and legs don't lie or stretch the truth.
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