Tomorrow marks 2.5 years. it’s written in a journal so i know the date. there’s an actual mark on the floor, in the spot where i simply couldn’t get back up. it’s soaked with tears. the sound of wailing. maple colored planks marred with despair. tomorrow marks 2.5 years since i could not hold on one more day.
i was suicidal.
i. wanted. to. die.
few know this. even fewer know another detail…surviving is not like in the movies. you know, the climatic moment when the suicidal person has two choices. yet, somewhere deep within, they find enough energy for that one phone call. the audience watches, with great hope, knowing someone is coming to help the wretched soul. it didn’t happen like this. the friend couldn’t come. they had too much going on. they were too busy. i gambled poorly again, as i had so many times in my life, sure of my choice.
i hung up the phone i had struggled so hard to locate & dial. i said goodbye knowing surely this would be the last time i would speak with any one human.
this had been a long time coming. months. years. try decades. i was the small child always afraid of retribution, so religiously on her best behavior. the devastated teen dragged through a civil war within her own home on more than one occasion. a young woman, pregnant & alone, yet educated enough to know the prince on the white horse was never coming to declare his love & save her. that young, single mother wrote a goodbye letter, interrupted by a telephone call from a scared 3 year old asking to be picked up from the sleepover.
that did it. no more. i had a job to do. this was ridiculous. get over it. so the feelings were stuffed down. folded ever so neatly & packed far away into the closet with other secrets. no one will notice. no one will know. it will be okay.
well, it’s a funny thing about secrets. they creep out a little bit at a time. just to screw with you, so you begin to doubt yourself. they do not come out all at once, because then you would be forced to address them. so they begin showing up in the form of poor health, obsessive thoughts, unmanageable relationships & behavior of which you no longer give a crap. secrets are nasty, horrific little beasts.
there is nothing special about my story. a white, middle class, heterosexual, female, single mother. the one who grew up in the christian family, attended the all girls school, partied with celebrities on music row, the nations’s capitol & the city of angels, plus volunteered for all the best society events. yeah, that girl with no extraordinary detail of adversity.
so i soldier on, raising the girl & teaching her to jump over the hurdles. showing her ways to catch herself when falling, while giving her a soft place to land when the hits come too hard. leading her to the finish line we can see so clearly. we get there, she moves forward, she moves on…she moves on.
when you are left alone to face your demons & the ones of those around you, it becomes a dark & loathsome place. the storm was a long time coming. the sadness. the loneliness. the despair. you cannot move forward. the beasts gain ground. the storm grows larger. it gets messy thrashing around in the mud with the secrets, because you were never given the proper armor to head into battle. you have no one in your corner to help you fight. that is, until you ask.
i heard it. the voice of god telling me to try one more time. make the second phone call. just dial. so i did. she answered. i asked for what i needed. she got me help, into trauma treatment & recovery.
2.5 years have passed. i am here, but it is by no means easy. i now have tools & armor with which to fight properly. every day is a small battle, but the prize is great. i could easily say it’s because my daughter still needs me, but the truth is, i need me. whole, with no secrets. this is my truth. this is courage.
it’s a marathon, not a sprint. i have to remind myself daily that i love me.
if you need help, please go to afsp.org or 1–800–273-TALK (8255)
Capucine is the owner of project girl consulting, a design & organizing firm. armed with a fine arts education from belmont university & an eclectic professional background, capucine began project girl consulting in 2010 to allow a more flexible schedule as a single mum of a young girl. now with a fully adulting daughter in the workplace, capucine’s focus is on her work & writing a book.
a nashville native, capucine is actively involved in community service volunteering for room in the inn, safe haven family shelter & the nashville dolphins; as well as serving on committees for friends of warner parks, the nashville symphony, the nashville ballet & cheekwood. mentoring is also a key ingredient in her professional landscape.
growing up on nashville’s famed music row, she adores the live music scene, dining out with friends, hiking at radnor lake & cooking to share with neighbors, friends & family.
you can learn more about capucine monk, aka PG, at www.projectgirlconsulting.com.