Chronically Healing Through Writing

Thoughts of the end -so through a pen I share rawfully honest thoughts. Thoughts about my relationship with chronic pain. Thoughts about the fantasies of romantic love , and the agony when this illusion disappears. The goal is to learn from my own journey through words.

Category: suicidal thoughts

Somebody Almost Walked off with all of my Stuff – My version


As many times as I’ve heard this poem.  It moved me like never before at this point in my life. I almost lost it all. I almost made the choice to lose it all.  I almost gave another total control of my future.  I almost allowed him to walk away with my sanity, my self worth, and my life. I became unrecognizable.

Ben and Jerry’s became my new best friend,  because if he didn’t want me no one else would. My skin started to peel from dryness after all the tears cried; neglecting to moisturize. I neglected my hair,  neglected my attire, neglected my home, neglected my smile.

I started to hear ringing from replaying all the conversations I never got to have. So I started to have them in my mind, and sometimes words came out. I found myself talking to him out loud, and he was no where in sight.

I started to lose my grip on reality. As strong as I appear to be, I am like any other women with a broken heart. I am like any other woman who was desperate to get him back. I am the woman who considered the posibility of harming herself to see if he would come. I am the woman who considered harming herself to see if he cared.  I am the woman who considered harming herself because I believed I could never get better. 

I am the woman who chose him over family and friends. I am the woman who told herself, “they have their own family; they have their own life…I need to make him my life…I need to make him my family. 

To think about where I would be had I stayed. To think about where I would be if I stopped fighting for my life. To think of where I would be if didn’t believe this pain would ease.

I would be the woman who let him walk away with all my stuff.


You know you are depressed when you realize your antidepressant meds are working and you don’t want them to.

You just want to feel every detail of pain an sorrow. Instead you just feel sad, confused about why you wanted to drown in the bath tub a few days ago. Telling yourself it wasn’t that bad, but wishing you had the guts to do it. 

You are in this world of middle grown. You are still down but energy and optimism wants to leap out of you. It’s a mental twilight zone really. In many ways this feeling is not better because of the struggle. It’s confusing, overwhelming, and lonely.

You realized you were always in the twilight zone. The twilight zone is the reality. The extreme highs and lows are ignited by other stimuli. My love life saddens me, my friends bring laughter, and work is a combination of both that keeps me grounded. However, when I’m home alone  or alone with my thoughts; I find myself stuck in the twilight zone.
So I guess the pills are working…