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See Through my Eyes
Copyright, Anonymous
My visit to a psychiatrist last week was disappointing and hurtful. Unable to accept the help he offered, he accused me of damaging my children, which in my mind is the worst thing I could ever do. I asked myself then, why live if I am hurting them so much? My children tell me that in taking my life, I would forever scar them, ruin their lives forever. I know of scars and suffering, I wish this on nobody, especially my own children. The psychiatrist said that my self injuring behavior was hurting my kids, ages 17 & 18. He did not ask me even once of my own pain, or of the reasons I self injure. I would have told him that it was my way of dealing with inner pain, my way of staying alive. He asked me if I wanted my children to sign committal papers and have me committed into a hospital, he accused me of secretly wanting this. That isn't true. Nobody seeks to understand the turmoil within me... The frustration I pose to these professionals, these doctors, can't begin to equal my own frustration with myself.
I am an adult woman. Yet there is still within me, so deeply ingrained in my soul, my childhood upbringing. My father, an exceptional provider, strict, with old Quaker values. My mother, a homemaker, a child of abuse. I was taught not to have problems and if I did, not to speak of them. It was considered a weakness. In my family you never asked for help, never. You never accepted help, never. You never spoke of personal family matters, never, not to friends, not to teachers...nobody. Don't let these words pass by you lightly, this was the way of my family, it was the law and is still etched within every fiber of my being.
The doctors tell me that I am suffering from depression, a very common illness easily treated with medication. I suffer also from self injury, which I'm told is a symptom of depression. I lost my job, in part, because of this illness. I'm currently living one day at a time. I have wanted help, have tried to receive help, but I always back away, always deny my need. I think it's because of my upbringing, knowing that talking of personal suffering is so wrong, so weak. Yes, it would be better to die. I cannot of course make a suicidal "attempt." When I decide I have run out of time, I will have to succeed...For an attempt is a failure, failure is weakness.
Doctors, don't judge me by the actions you see through your own eyes of me. Look instead through my eyes, see as I am seeing. Seek understanding. Save my life.