But things are never as simple as we expect, are they? I didn't consider how slowly things move. Not being financially flush, I am totally dependent on treatments through the NHS. My first port of call was Health in Mind, a local NHS initiative that provides people who have mental issues with support.
Supposedly, the Psych team from the hospital had sent a referral to Health in Mind and upon leaving the hospital, I was advised that I would be contacted within five working days. Hah!! If only!! Five working days later, still nothing. And did I do anything about it? Of course not. One of the hardest things about suffering from Depression is the inability to motivate yourself to do anything, even things that you know will help. So I just waited. After all, I knew that there were people out there who needed help far more than I did. My low self-esteem has never allowed me to believe that I actually deserve anything other than a kick in the teeth.
I slowly spiraled downwards, inside feeling more and more worthless whilst trying to maintain the public face, portraying a woman on the road to recovery. I had never found it so hard before, but there was something bubbling inside me. I had reached the end of my tether and believe me, having failed a suicide attempt for something like me just makes it even worse. Not only was I failure at life, but I was also a failure at death.
Oh yes, I knew exactly what people wanted to hear. I was glad that I had failed. I had seen first hand how hurt my family would be if I had died. I believed that I could get better. I had something to live for. Blah, blah, blah. Please!! I still believe that my family would be better off if I was dead. Yes, I know, they would be sad for a while, but there is no doubt in my mind that they would soon recover and without me to hinder them, they could get on with living happy and productive lives. The only thing I have ever done to my family is hurt them, so how can I believe for even a minute that I have anything to offer them?
After coming out of hospital, I was off sick for a week. My boss and my friend from work visited me, trying to support me and show that they cared. The other Bella just took over, saying and doing all the right things. The internet was my best friend. I spent hours searching various websites to find the warning signs of a suicidal mentality. I studied various online support groups to learn the right things to say and do. And I became an expert. I fooled them all. And I was proud of it. I still am.
I don't want people caring about me. I don't want people coming up to me and asking if I am okay with that concerned look on their faces. Couldn't they see that they were wasting their time on me? I was an inconsequential waste of space who did not deserve even the air she breathed.
So I did what I thought would be the best thing. I told everyone exactly what I had done and why. Surely once they knew the truth, they would turn their backs on me? If my own family thought I was a waste of space, people who knew me better than anyone else, then that was representative of what everyone else would think. Added to this of course, was the fact that I don't like lying to people. I am what I am and I did what I did. And people deserved to know the facts about who and what I was. Then they could stop wasting their time on me.
But it backfired. My revelations have been received with almost universal concern and caring. The only ones who turned on me were my family. Not my sons, but pretty much everyone on my mother's side of the family. Every one of them. Eventually, even my own brother. It's funny, but not so long before he had amazed me by being such a pillar of strength and support. And I fell for it. That is probably why when he did turn on me, it came as such a shock. One of the people I had thought would always stand by me ... it only went to prove that I was worthless and nothing but trouble to those who cared about me.
But back to my friends and work colleagues. The messages came flowing in. All supportive. And they had two opposite effects on me and I can only explain it by using the two Bella's. The one Bella was heartened. Maybe there was hope that I could get through this. But the other Bella was distraught. How could I live with the fact that I was fooling these people into believing that I was worth even a minute of their time? I was torn apart. The two parts of me each pulling in their own direction, each opposite to the other.
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