Dark Place

 “I’m not good.”

“I’m not doing great.”

“I’m okay…”

“I haven’t been good.” 

Those are my most used phrases over the last while and I’ve realized it’s my code. My code for. I’m really, really, really, really not okay. I’m getting into a dark place. I’m in an unhealthy place. And I’ve been at or at the verge of a potentially unsafe and dangerous place. 

These responses are different than a “I’m okay!” It’s the sad, hesitant one. It’s the constant highlighting of how I’m not doing rather than how I am doing. Because I can’t bring myself to focus on how I am doing. The one that’s asking “please ask me more, so I can know you care. But also know I’ll probably deflect and hide even more.” 

Being in a dark place is scary and it’s lonely. It’s worse when you really believe that you are alone and even worse when you intentionally keep people at bay and don’t really invite a space for questions. I think the reason why many of us don’t invite or create a space for questions when we are in a dark place is 1-we truly don’t have the energy and 2-it’s terrifying. I’m so not in a place to be rejected so I take even less risk than usual. It’s a time when I need the other person to take the risk. 

That’s why the research says to ask people directly if they are thinking about suicide. It’s a risk, but it’s a necessary one. 

From my journal:

“I started getting loneliness thoughts in my head and I was able to combat them by saying ‘that’s not true’ aloud.”

“Lies started coming into my head-lies hard to combat, easy to believe. I started crying and started silently whispering ‘I am loved, I am loved, I am loved’ over and over and over again. I am loved.”

“I’m really struggling…God, I don’t like this.”

“Ashley, people will care if you die. It won’t stop pain, it’ll add so, so, so much more. You are unspeakably loved. I cried. Cried for myself, cried out to God. What happened to me?”