Why I don't ask for help

Discussion in 'Rants, Musings and Ideas' started by Nonny, Sep 16, 2006.

  1. Nonny

    Nonny Member

    [this is really not a suicide note. I'm not doing anything at the moment. But this is just something I wrote about why I feel I can't tell people close to me about what's in my head ...]

    Why I didn't ask for help

    I'm dead. Or locked up in some crazy house for failures, raving like a loon and spitting out my meds.

    Either way,I didn't ask you for help.

    It's not that I didn't care about hurting you. Truth is, I cared about very few things.
    But not hurting you made my very short list of things that mattered.
    A little in the grand scheme of things, which was about all I could muster for anyone

    Maybe I could have told you.

    I want to die.
    I'm all alone in the world.
    What could you have done?
    Been there for me, I suppose.

    And been there every time I felt this encompassing overwhelming thing ...
    this thing begging to be muted
    by, well ...you know what I did to swallow it ...

    Instead of doing that in that moment
    of desperation
    I'd have called you.

    Are you asking that now?
    Why I didn't ask for help?

    Help me. Help, I want to die. Make me feel better, or
    (and here's the threat)
    I will do this thing to myself
    and you will hurt from it.

    Idle threats probably. Manipulation. Buy me a cookie or I'll scream.
    Spend your weekend holding me or I'll cut ... or swallow ... or jump.
    Every day presenting you with
    The threat de jure.

    Maybe I could have told you I was hurting, but not thrown it all at you.
    I could have shared without making myself a victim.
    That's what you'd probably have told me the tenth time I called.
    well, the tenth time that day.
    You can't expect the world to fix you.
    You'd say that. Rightfully so.
    But If I could have done that - taken responsibility and made myself better ...
    well, then I wouldn't have
    you know ...
    If I could have gotten past the helplessness ...
    well then maybe.

    So I didn't ask for help.
    It was my gift to you really.
    ok, so my gift to me allowing myself to feel less guilty about hurting you like this
    But still.
    I didn't give you the chance to
    get sick of my certain and unfair melodrama
    (imagine a note like this every day)
    no chance to deny my demands
    To call my bluff.

    To ensure you'd be an innocent party
    I didn't tell you ...
    you know.