Loving them is the most exquisite form of self destruction.

This whole "love" thing is awfully complicated.

Don't get me wrong being in love is amazing- if the feeling is reciprocated.

Otherwise it is just a whirlwind of pain,

At least that's what I used to believe.

You see, reader, I am as always going to let you in on a deep secret that I have discovered what love truly is.

Not infatuation, Not a common crush, Not a happily ever after unrealistic love story but a modern day love story with no ending for it has never begun.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I am no believer of love at first sight but on more than one occasion has a beautiful man caught my eye.

However this person (I must shield their identity for obvious reasons) would not have caught my eye.

I find them attractive of course but that isn't why I love them.

I fell in love with their soul (I promise this isn't a cheesey declaration of love)

It was only until I really knew them, knew what kind of person they were.

Noone is perfect and I am under no illusion that this person is

Every imperfection, I admire and adore (or just tolerate).

-------------

This is the part where I tell you how magical it is to be in love and how we're going to runaway into the sunset?

Unfortunately in this love story the ending is unclear because this is just a chapter in the book but I can confidently say that we will never be together.

Oh don't feel sad, or give me that pitiful smile you give to a three legged puppy.

I knew this all along and I tried to prevent it but I could not stop loving them anymore than I could stop breathing.

*Cue the sad violin*

Just kidding, THIS ISN'T A SAD STORY.

*Cue happy chirpy music at the end of a RomCom that has nothing to do with the film*

Love is more than living happily ever after.

Love is more than waking up with the same person every morning.

Love is wanting them to be happy regardless of whether they are with you.

Love is wanting them to be safe and well but not wanting anything in return.

Maybe I could just be their Guardian Angel? Just without the wings and far less beautiful... Actually that would just make me seem like a stalker.

I will never ask for anything from them.

I will always be there for them.

I will just never be theirs.

Loving them is the most exquisite form of self destruction.

I felt proud to just be alive

"Sit down Amy, you look dreadful"

I always admired his honesty, many people tip toe around me and the fake compliments have grown tiresome.

I did look dreadful.

I hadn't slept in days, the only reason I was able to keep my eyes open was by drinking a cocktail of prescription medication and coffee.

"Tell me what's been going on since we last met"

This is the man who was there when I found out Charlotte died, he sat with me for a few hours until a family friend collected me to take me home.

He had dealt with thousands of students and patients, over 20 years working in mental health and well being and my case was one of the worst "Top five" he always said and definitely the most involved.

I hadn't seen him in over year, so there was a lot to explain and I knew there was no point hiding the truth.

He was a strange character, a rocker, motor bike rider and looked like a human sized Hagrid from Harry Potter, a great big beard, long hair and kind eyes.

I began to explain as best I could the current situation-

"I feel like whenever I leave the house I'm struck by lightening,

I am forever in the wrong place at the wrong time,

Facing painful consequences for other peoples actions which are not my fault,

Or dreadful things that are noones fault but yet I still must carry the burden as "That's life",

Well if that is life then I'm not sure I want to live it,"

You see most people at this point would freak out or tell me I'm being ridiculous but not him.

"Continue Amy, I know you're not done"

I couldn't help but smile, it was nice for once to have someone not change the subject or tell me "I just need to think positively", for someone to realise that this small rant was just a drop in the bucket.

"Firstly Charlotte died from a horrendous illness which ripped my family apart,

My parents proved they were too stubborn to be civil putting me into something worse than the hell I was already in,

The first man, man may be a strong word for now I know he was nothing more than a cowardly boy. broke my heart when Charlotte was dieing, I lost the two people I loved most in the world in the space of a few weeks,

I had to restart university with no friends, noone to talk too,

I fell in love with a man in my vulnerable state who abused and controlled me,

Taking photos to prove I was where I said I was,

Verbally abusing me to the point where I felt I would always be broken,

Threatening to kill himself if I left him trapping me and torturing me with his words,

I finally managed to leave him but still frequently receive abusive messages,

Then I was a victim of a serious sexual assault by someone I trusted,

I went to the police, I did everything they said, they gave me false hope and he is now free.

After hearing the news of him being released without charge I travelled home and as I set foot on the platform a man jumped infront of a train before my very eyes, I can still hear the sound of him hitting the train and the screams in my nightmare.

I had quite rightly given up on men until a reader of my blog gave me the support and affection I needed more than air but suddenly days after saying how much he liked me and would never hurt me because I had been hurt enough told me he had met the love of his life and whilst I was great she was better. Tearing down the little confidence I had left.

Then this weekend I went out for my birthday to bar and as I stood to order a drink I look to my right there was the man who attacked me,

I haven't been able to tell people what really happened, I just refer to it as an incident because I am ashamed something so small affected me so much,

All he did was grab me by the wrist and I just froze, paralyzed by my own pathetic fear then when I finally caught my breath I ran away like a coward.

That brings me to today"

I let out a deep sigh then looked up at him wiping tears from under his glasses, I realised as I had been speaking I was looking at the floor and hadn't actually monitored his reaction my only concern was to get it all out as quickly as possible as each word felt like a dagger in my heart.

"Amy, You trust me and you've known me many years.

How would you have reacted if I grabbed you by the wrist, right now, How would you feel?"

"Uncomfortable"

"Exactly, anyone to grab you like that is unacceptable but for the man who attacked you to do 

it? 

Terrifying, 

take away all the others things that happened to you, that alone is justifiable for you to feel this way,

On top of that you lost your sister which wasn't that long ago, you're still grieving for that,

Plus all these added heartache and stress,

Amy, Is it really a surprise you're suicidal?

I mean who wouldn't be,

I dare anyone to be in your position and be coping half as well as you are right now,

Of course you're struggling, It's amazing that you're here right now.

You're a hell of a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for so stop beating yourself up,

You're doing outstandingly well and the fact that you can sit there and list all these things you've 

survived proves to me that you can get through this too."

This whole time I have been feeling that I was a disappointment or not good enough but right then in that moment 

I felt proud to just be alive.

Suicide prevention

I feel like I should offer some more explanation to my previous blog post.

It should be clear by now that whilst I am frequently an emotional train wreck I do have a strong awareness of what I feel, why I feel it and how to move forward.

Now I'm not going to lie to you, I'm not magically better, I don't feel worse but I also don't feel any better.

Past Amy however is very good at taking precautions.

Ever since I was around 16 I have not allowed myself to control any drugs that I could over dose on, such as strong pain killers or certain sleeping pills.

If I need them they are given to someone else to hang onto so I do not have direct access to it.

I realise it makes me sound like a kid who can't open the child lock on the tablets but I know what I can get like.

The medication I take for my bi polar isn't kept all together, it's dotted about in different places and I never have more than a few weeks supply.

This prevents any impulsive suicide attempt.

Also working in my favour is that I faint at the site of blood, even the thought of blood or broken bones makes me feel sick this rules out any physical harm I could do to myself.

I used to burn myself, that didn't create any blood and was also very easy to explain if anyone asked "I caught my arm on the over" or "Burnt my hand straightening my hair".

I keep my straighteners out of my room downstairs so that if I was to want to harm myself I'd have to get out my dark room and walk downstairs and normally by this point there is a) Someone else in the house who will see me preventing me from doing it or b) By the time I've walked downstairs and got myself out of my room I've had second thoughts.

Suicide does take planning.

There are dark parts on the internet which encourage or give suggestions for suicide.

These are all blocked on my computer and phone, the blocker I use is protected by a password that I don't know so I can't take it down.

If I do type something to do with suicide it takes me to a helpline page.

I also have letters I've written to myself to explain why I need to live.

I'm fortunate to have a family who cares greatly for me and a few friends who want to help but just don't know what to do (it's ok I understand that).

My honesty about how I feel scares people and I don't mean to do that but surely that is better than me hiding.

I just wanted to reassure people that whilst they may not be able to save me, 

I can save myself.

Maybe life isn't for everyone

I have never been a lover of rain but as I walked the dark streets to work I felt relived to feel the cold water fall on my face.

It gave me the perfect disguise for my tears.

I am not an advocate for lying but I am a strong believer in pushing my problems on other people.

Everyone has their own demons and whilst it is important to ask for help there is a time and a place.

The bar where I work was not that place.

Luckily humans by nature are selfish and awkward so would therefore not pry of even ask if anything was wrong.

I was hoping that would work in my favour but as I walked behind the bar I saw a face that was destined to break me.

Here was someone who knew everything and more importantly knew me yet explaining to him what was wrong was an impossible task.

The incident that occurred yesterday is merely a drop in the bucket, the straw that broke that camels back because the reason for my tears were that of fear.

I am a scientist and my brain works logically in solving problems.

Which is useful for academic work but for emotional delicate situations like this, it is quite dangerous.

The phrase that keeps circling my brain and bringing tears to my eyes because it is a horrible truth.

I have been suicidal before but this is different.

My past interaction with suicidal thoughts were overwhelming emotion and needing to find an exit.

Right now I find myself thinking clearly and logically that:

if I am the architect of my own destruction,

if I attract heartbreak, 

if I am destined to be broken and

if after 23 years of fighting life has still beaten my down and broken me that

Maybe life isn't for everyone and

Maybe this life isn't for me.

I’d go through it all again just to hold her hand.

I thought I could save everyone.

I didn’t want to be the sun to light up their day but the moon to shine light in their darkest moments.

However it seems whilst I tried to fix these broken hearts, I myself was cut by the shattered pieces.

You know if I could I would take the pain away.

Even if it meant I felt more I would take it away, if it meant you would feel better.

Right now it feels like the people I’m trying to save aren’t getting better and I’m getting worse.

That’s the problem when you’re considered the strongest one, you must hold everyone up but no-one will ever offer you a hand.

I found myself falling into old habits, telling a lie, faking a smile, having something eat away at my head and heart but not having a soul I could trust it with.

I will tell it to you, reader.

Promise you will not pity me.

A night at the bar a girl had fallen and badly injured her knee.

I was working close down and whilst the bar was emptied of customers, the paramedics entered.

The girl was distressed and clutching onto the gas and air.

The cries of pain this girl made when they tried to move her.

Blood curdling.

It triggered something inside me.

In fact the situation was fairly familiar.

At the Children’s hospice, I had fallen asleep on an armchair in Charlotte’s room, refusing to leave her side.

My university books on my lap and my empty dinner plate on the floor, the nurses brought it in the room for me understanding my need to be with Charlotte (I also couldn’t bare the idea of sitting in the dining room and making small talk)

I was awoken by a boney tap on my shoulder, Charlotte even before she’d lost all the weight had incredibly boney fingers making her pokes very hard to ignore.

I instantly jumped from my chair and looked at the expression on her face followed by her hands (She was deaf and used sign language).

The nurses knew very little sign language so I was a vital translator- hence why I had to be there all the time.

She complained of a pain in her knee.

Now it is important to understand Charlotte had a high pain tolerance, having over 50 operations in her time she was rarely one to exaggerate when it came to pain.

We had a system, I would ask her on a scale from 1-10 how bad the pain was in order to figure out the seriousness.

Even when Charlotte had C-diff, Chicken pox internally and was in intensive care she only labelled pain at a 6.

So when she signed the number 8, I knew it was something serious.

Charlotte had lost a lot of weight by this point, so much so that her bones were beginning to break through her skin.

Mainly at the joints, so elbows and knees.

A nurse stood in front of me, waiting instruction, I knew nothing of medicine but I knew Charlotte like the back of my hand.

It was decided we needed to take the dressing off her knee, change it and up her pain medication.

Charlotte’s boney fingers gripped onto mine whilst we slowly moved her leg.

The cries of pain echoed through the hospice, my heart sinks just thinking about it.

Well that cry was parallel to the one I heard at the bar that night.

Suddenly I was back in that room, the smell of the chemicals from the medicine and the touch of Charlotte's hand in mine.

I was upset when I realised I wasn’t there, whilst that was one of the most horrendous things I’ve ever experienced-

I’d go through it all again just to hold her hand.