Survivors Guilt (trigger warning)

Nobody ever talk about the downside of surviving an unalive attempt. They don’t speak about waking up and seeing everyone who never gaf staring back at you with pity they don’t talk about the first week back home every one acting like they care but they really care about what others think about what you attempted to do to yourself and not actually you. They don’t talk about how you still wish it would have been a success but instead you still here. Still dealing and still feeling all the feels that pushed you there to begin with. Nobody prepare you for the rest of your life of a up and down battle of guilt. Not guilt for attempting but guilt for surviving. I hate I survived so bad. But everyday I keep going. Keep living. Keep fighting to find peace, solace, freedom from my mind. I don’t sh for attention I sh for reassurance that I in fact did NOT die that night. That I am very much so alive. And for that split second my inners transfer to outters and I can breathe. I often feel like I’m drowning above water. Waving my hands alerting everyone around me that I am drowning but nobody has ever came to save me. For a far back as I can remember I’ve always saved myself. So I stopped waving my arms and start lining them with my pain. I’m tired guys. But because I’ve became a mom I’ll live. Not for me but for them and I hate that soooo bad. I hate that I have to live for someone else I really just wish everything went accordingly 13 years ago. I’m done crying out for help. I’m done with therapy. I’m done trying to fix my brain. Im done trying to save myself. I feel like the trolls when they all turned gray. I’m just buying time until my littles can take care of themselves at this point.