I’ve considered taking my last post down, but then I decided against it. I think it’s important to keep a record of the low points; why they came about, why they passed.
The reason for my going so low was that The Onliner had been ignoring me since coming out of hospital. This is one of my triggers. No response to any of my messages. No answering my calls on Skype or Line. I didn’t have his phone number or email address. I had no way to get in touch with him, and I was starting to consider crazy scenarios involving private detectives. I still had enough sanity within me to know that if I went down that path, there was no turning back from entering Crazy Stalker Town, and the torment of not being able to take that road was killing me.
At my lowest, my mother was desperate to help me find a way to pull out. We don’t have much money, so decent help isn’t easy to get. I don’t feel any desire to return to my current therapist, as I feel like we have reached the limit of how she can help me. Or at least the limit of how much I am willing to accept her help.
I stuffed my pockets with all the various pills I could get a hold of so that my mother couldn’t take them away from me. Having them makes me feel like I have a way out when I can no longer bear the pain. My mother said she would do anything to help me. She would give up all her possessions to pay for help, she would trade brains with me if she could. Hearing her talk like this tears at my soul. Knowing what I’m putting her through adds another layer of pain, and also adds to the feeling of being trapped. I don’t want to put her through my suicide.
Sometimes I feel like she guilts me into staying here for her own benefit. So, on Thursday afternoon I felt angry with her. I said, “If you want to help me, call dad. Ask him for money to help me.”
I’m not sure how much I’ve written in this blog about my father. But, he is where all my fears and issues started. It is way too much to go into in a single post, so I will talk about it more soon. I think it’s very important for me to get out though.
My father was very violent, paranoid, and often kept my mother away from me, which is one of the causes for my abandonment phobia. We left him 23 years ago, when I was 10, and spent years running from him. At that young age, I believed that if he found us, he would kill us. My mother hasn’t seen or spoken to him in these 23 years, and I have seen him only once since then, ten years ago. But I still have nightmares occasionally about him.
My mother consented to call him. She began to look up his number online, but even after 23 years, I still remember it. He is still where we left him, in our family home. Crying, she dialled. His wife of 20 years answered, and put my father on the phone.
The conversation was short, maybe two minutes. She told him that they had a very sick daughter. A daughter who tried to kill herself. And that we needed to see him. We needed his help. We needed to discuss the past. I could hear his voice through the phone. It still made me feel sick and anxious after so long. I heard him say he still loved us, but after so long, what could he do? That he would love to see us. My mother arranged to see him the next morning.
After that I felt some hope return. I don’t know why. I was scared, but excited to finally confront him. The devil of my childhood, and indeed my entire life. The man whose mere existence continues to torment me.
I tried to sleep that night. But apart from the anxiety of seeing my father the next day, The Onliner finally made contact.
To be continued.