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What's Keeping You Alive?

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**The desire to see the next generation (my kids) do well in their lives and find happiness.
**The sound of laughter ... whether I can join in or not.
**Cuddling with our PTSD cocker spaniel.
**Watching the antics of our two guinea pigs doing the "mating dance".
**The sudden craving for junk food.
**Remembering the NDE I experienced from trying (and almost succeeding) at suicide. It was horrifically scary at first ... then miraculous. (only to be shared with anyone who wants to know).
**Rightful anger/sadness/dissociation/flashbacks/etc that let me realize I am human. Not robot. I'd rather be fighting insanity than sanely giving in.
**Visualizing everybody with their hair done in dreadlocks. Seriously funny stuff!! :D
**Nobody else will forget to water the plants like me. I have to be here to rake the carpet.
 
Thank you 712, no that wasn't what I meant but it's a good article.

No, just wondering if anyone experiences a residual 'feeling' or 'guilt' of why they've survived SI, or near-death things? Not 'survivor's guilt" (if there were no other people present), more like "surviving guilt"? Why 'yourself', but not others who were more indispensible?

Not sure if 'guilt' is the best term, though-(?)
 
Oh, well, guilt is a weird thing with me. It is there and gone and in different places at once -- like a subatomic particle (or is it a wave?). I feel guilty for reacting 'wrong' to trauma. I had this idea when I was first hospitalized when I was 10, then periodically till I was 23. I was reacting 'wrong', so they said I was mentally ill. The abusers were normal, and were only indirectly punished because they technically didn't really break any 'real' or 'concrete' laws (bent, distorted, and lied their way out). The only concrete law they broke was neglect.

There are no laws, that I know of, that say scarying a kid to near death with religious practices and making her believe there was a demon slowly replacing her soul -- that is not really written down anywhere in the law books. There probably isn't anything written about mothers who .... There might now be laws against mothers, but to me it didn't seem like there were any when I was a kid. She was comforted while I was isolated and drugged. I was the bad one and they were protecting her from me.

I tried to get mentally stronger, and bottled up my reactions. My body and mind just weren't big enough to contain it all though. I'd do okay for a while, but then snap like a rubber band that had been stretched too far. Adults got away with everything and I was punished for reacting wrong. I felt like no one was on my side.

I feel guilty for not succeeding in killing myself. My life hasn't been worth the extra time I've been given. It is possible I may have positively influenced a few people along the way, but I feel like I've negatively influenced a lot more. I isolate because I just can't react 'right' out in the world all the time.

Having utility and a safe place to dwell have been my goals. Game over -- I didn't find all the weapons in this game to take out the demon. I haven't been able to put the pieces of myself together and be a whole human being. I'm something else entirely. I needed professional help, but the powers that be dictate that only those who have enough money or insurance can have the proper educated person to speak with. The therapy exists to help me, but I just don't have enough of the green paper to exchange for it.

They determined that long ago -- I could have been helped but they chose not to; same as for many who are homeless. People step over them in the street or pass by someone laying on the ground because they don't want to get involved. If it is a lot of work to help someone, and there is no real incentive to do so, then that person is left to suffer. That is just the way the majority of suffering people live all over the world.

"If I could help someone I would, but I don't have the tools." This must be their mantra in their head as they pass by. Maybe that is how those professionals that passed by me felt. Maybe they wanted to help but felt like they just didn't have the right tools for the job? I can respect that, but don't expect me to find a way out on my own -- that is really all I asked. Don't insult me for not finding 'my happy place' when I can't even find my way out of joblessness. I begged for a job as a cleaning lady and they refused. Why? They wouldn't tell me. Maybe it was because I was begging. Maybe I wanted it too much.

It doesn't matter now. I do feel guilty for reacting wrong, and for surviving my own attempts at finding a way out on my own. However, I don't plan on feeling this way forever. There is a way out. It just takes some proper planning. That is what is keeping me alive today.
 
Dear 712, thank you for saying that, I know in many respects it's like baring your soul.

I can only say, I agree, those who need legitimate help (and those who are able, motivated, and qualified to give it), either get lost in the shuffle, or do not connect with such people.
And much is about money (though it's debatable if it always coincides with the best care).

Perhaps we (both) struggle with this because I was young(er) also, although I experienced nothing as you described- the horrors of someone turning the tables to protect their abuse from being disclosed. :(
My heart breaks for you.

But I hid the ptsd and SI attempts.

I think you've perhaps hit on a point, specifically also with the homeless- at the heart of the matter is simply 'care'. TO care. Perhaps therein lays the biggest and most help, in many respects. To give or receive.

In respect to you and the awful experiences with religion you've had, I think that 'real' 'God' (or any Higher Power, so to speak- a Loving One, that made us and has a Plan), well it's not up to me to 'play' God, He must have His reasons.

You have persevered 712, and in doing so understand so much more than many with degree(s) behind their name.
Thank you always for your support, and trying to help me.

Somewhere, I wish I could break this cycle (of thoughts), or at least understand where they come from.
But, oh well, to be alive is a gift, too.

((((Hugs)))
 
Exercise - I live at the gym lately. Sixty minutes of cardio 6-7 days a week with weights added in 4-5 days.
 
Good memories of someone I once loved that taught me I could make my own damn sunshine.
My husband who I love very much who I run to after every disaster.
My son who is just to me amazing
Knowing even when the world is so evil and full of so much pain, I can still make my own damn sunshine! Knowing even if someone tells me a lie that the black void is darker than the sunshine, I might believe it for a short time but it still is always a lie.
Knowing my PTSD is just me trying to seek the truth of the lie, because deep down I can never give up on it.
 
My husband who I love so very much. He has done everything for me. He so wanted to make me happy and take away all of my pain, now he is so sick and I am his caregiver and I can finally pay him back,
My daughter and my 2 grandkids, they make me so happy and so full of love.

The fact that I am doing so much better than I was,
This site with all the good and decent and caring people here.
 
I've been trying to think of a reason to live for the past three days, and I've finally got one.

If I died, I wouldn't be able to take my summer children's lit course! It has books like "The paper bag princess", "Goodnight moon" and "Harry Potter and the philosopher's stone" on the list! I am NOT going to miss one lesson of that class even if I happen to break my legs the morning of the class, I'd get someone to wheel me in on a stretcher to participate! :D

I'm really excited for the course! ;) Yay! :D
 
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