Day 9 : Suicidal Selma

Andrea Maldonado | Gourmet Witch
Trigger WARNING Subject : Suicide

**If you are having suicidal thoughts or feelings, please reach out to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline @1-800-273-8255 talk to someone.. Get help… you are not alone.

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She was sitting on the floor of her bedroom in the dark when her husband walked in. “I want to die.” Selma said hardly audible. “ What?” he said softly, so as not to startled her. “I dunno” she muttered. “I just don’t see a point to living anymore. Not like this… who wants to live like this? And you… how many more times are you going to watch me cry? How many more times are you going to pick me up off the floor? How much more of this can you take? It’s unhealthy for you and unfair.” she said defeated.

Jonathan sat on the floor next to his wife and wrapped his arms around her, leaning his head against hers. She tried to push him away, break free from his hold but she was tired of crying, tired of fighting, and his touch was the only thing that brought her comfort. “I am not going anywhere,” he said “and neither are you.” tightening his grip around her. She squeaked feeling the pressure and he loosened it again.”What can I do?” he asked her. “Nothing.” she said defeated. “There is nothing you can do for me at all. I can’t explain why I feel this way, and yet I do. It doesn’t make sense to anyone right?” she leaned into his chest. “Baby, just talk to me, I am listening.” he comforted.

“I have a loving husband, my children are great…. I love my dog, he’s adorable! I work a shit job but I get paid well and have a great schedule. I live in a neighborhood I can’t stand, but its safe, and I sleep easily knowing I don’t have to worry about intruders. I have my own car , I can do whatever I want but none of that matters to me right now. I want the anxiety to go away. I want the voices in my head to stop telling me I am not good enough. I want my body to stop having a war inside of itself so that I can live a normal shitty day just like everyone else….. I just want the pain to end, and this… this is the only way” her voice, cracking.

Jonathan was scared. He knew his wife battled anxiety and depression, sometimes even together and for the most part she held it together. When she wasn’t doing well, he noticed her irritability or the need to sleep for hours without getting any real rest and he would support her, giving her the space she needed. He saw her drag her feet every morning to make it to a place she hated, all to make sure that her family was provided for.

Often times she didn’t cook. No longer in love with her passion, the illness in her mind taking over so they became a family that eats take out sometimes six days out of seven. Her family, again, supportive, did not utter a word about it, though on occasion her children begged for her home cooking and she would comply, feeling again, like a person, just for a few moments. The next day she paid for her enthusiasm with body aches and a migraine. The bottom line…. Selma was tired of it all.

“The only reason I am still here, is because of you guys. My pain would end, sure, but then I would pass it on to you guys… I don’t want to be responsible for that. I mean, this isn’t much better, you watching me like this, helpless… I’m sorry..” she sobbed, clutching her husband tightly. “For now, I am fighting, and even though I said I wanted to die, the truth is I don’t want to leave any of you. I just don’t know what to do about this pain I feel…” she whispered.

Jonathan held his wife, trying to conceal his own tears. There was nothing he could do to help her other than be the support she needed in whatever way she needed it. Right now, he was the warm pair of arms and the heartbeat that reminded her of the people who needed her here and for today, that was enough for Selma. They were always her reason to get up every morning and fight.

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