Today has been traumatic, although perhaps that’s not the correct word. That’s how it’s suddenly feeling tonight, at the time it wasn’t. At the time everything felt very dream like, very calm and I didn’t really have any emotional reaction to the events at all. The short story, I was found this afternoon by someone driving past while I stood somewhere I shouldn’t be. They stopped and moved me away, taking me back to their house before deciding what to do. They were very kind and caring. Tonight all I want to do is go back to where they found me.
Last week my husband found out that I am suicidal. I hadn’t planned to tell him but he found out when I was brought home by the police. Since then although he knows, my secret has remained, nothing has changed. He knows but he doesn’t if that’s makes sense, because I still hide it. I’ve hidden it for so long its habit now.
How can I tell him that today I was back at the place where the police came to me last week? I just can’t. But the secret feels so heavy. The irony is before this week I had someone else at work I could have talked to but despite the fact that I’m avoiding her, which is a whole different story, if I told anyone else they would tell my husband. So I’m trapped.
My stomach is in such a knot and my head is all over the place. I’m so exhausted and yet I still portray the outward image that everything is normal. I do everything as normal, go to work as normal, cook the tea and do the house work as normal. But everything is far from normal on the inside.
Last week my husband found out that I am suicidal. I hadn’t planned to tell him but he found out when I was brought home by the police. Since then although he knows, my secret has remained, nothing has changed. He knows but he doesn’t if that’s makes sense, because I still hide it. I’ve hidden it for so long its habit now.
How can I tell him that today I was back at the place where the police came to me last week? I just can’t. But the secret feels so heavy. The irony is before this week I had someone else at work I could have talked to but despite the fact that I’m avoiding her, which is a whole different story, if I told anyone else they would tell my husband. So I’m trapped.
My stomach is in such a knot and my head is all over the place. I’m so exhausted and yet I still portray the outward image that everything is normal. I do everything as normal, go to work as normal, cook the tea and do the house work as normal. But everything is far from normal on the inside.