Lace Left Behind

Thirty Days Writing About Depression, Suicidal Thoughts and Survival

// INTRODUCTION //

I AM NOT A HEALTHCARE PROFESSIONAL. I'M JUST SHARING MY EXPERIENCES AND TOOLS WHICH HAVE WORKED FOR ME

Dear You, 

Before I explain this project, I want to start by saying this: this month — or any day, at any time you need — you can send me a message. If you ever feel lonely, like the world doesn’t listen, I will listen. Send me a message in a bottle through DMs, and I promise I’ll answer as quickly as I can. You are not alone. And if I have to manage a thousand messages a day, I will. Because someone cares. I do. 

This month, I’ll be sharing a series of daily reflections called Things I Learned from Wanting to Die. These entries are drawn from my own experiences with depression and suicidal thoughts — not as a guide or prescription, but as a companion to anyone who might feel lost inside their mind. Each day, a new chapter will explore a different aspect of living with a brain that sometimes feels like it’s working against you.

Alongside the essays, I’ll be providing resources, journaling prompts, and tools that have helped me survive — things I’ve found useful in my own journey, through Google Drive. My hope is that this project can be a conversation without words: you can read, reflect, or respond when you’re ready, at your own pace.

Here’s the link to Google Drive.

I also want to emphasize that if you don’t want to read me describing not, so much fun stuff, you can still use the google drive link and use the resources. There is no time limit, no pressure, just vibing and reading about my personal life as always. 

XOXO, Sue 🎀

Strangers of the Internet, I'm here today to talk to you about music and to introduce a project I've been working on. A playlist, with my favorite "therapy" songs, they're therapeutic in a way to me and it's gonna evolve with time and with my own mental health journey.

It's a bit empty right now, but be sure I'll be adding more songs really soon, and I'm really excited to share this part of my own therapy, maybe at some point I could make an online support group, that would be amazing. One can and should have dreams, right ?

Sometimes life is as quiet as a rock love song.

As Dean Winchester once said, there's only one reason to listen to Bon Jovi and it's if you're going to hell.

"I'm a Cowboy

On a steel-horse I ride

I'm wanted

Dead or Alive"

Wanted Dead or Alive - Bon Jovi → if you're a Supernatural fan and you don't listen to this gem everytime and you don't sing like Sam the freaking "wanted" like him are you really a fan ?

And we all know that Dean Winchester is peak bad boy boyfriend energy. That's someone who would sing slowly in your hear "I don't Want to Miss a Thing" by Aerosmith.

YES I KNOW IT'S CRAZY YOU THOUGHT OF THAT TOO LMAO

Damn this man omgomgomgoomg

It's 5 am, and I'm wide awake, completely mortified because I had an episode and lashed out on my boyfriend :) The joys of living with BPD. This could sadly take me one step closer to self-sabotage and I feel very ashamed of doing that, and I'm actually typing this before it's resolved. And then I hated myself

And almost

ALMOST

Almost hurt myself. But I didn't.

And that's what's important, is the fact that even though I thought about it I treated it like what it is : an intrusive thought and even if It just made me cry harder, I didn't act on it. And eventually, after some very long minutes, it passed.

I was shaking

I was scared

I was alone

And I heard Silence

Because every single time I scream, cry, fight, I face silence in return. And there's this silence pact in my family that I'm not gonna start to talk about today (but will definitely one day because if my grandma can't have a voice of her own I'll be her voice to tell her story. Our story.). But yeah, weird silence is golden rule, implicit, never mentioned, but you can feel its weight.

Because silence isn't an option anymore. It has to be broken. So I'll be loud, with my laugh and my voice. I'll be loud in my appearance. I'll be as loud as I can. I'll scream until my lungs burn and until I'm wheezing cause I don't have enough air in those damn lungs cause I smoke.

But this time I don't blame myself. And maybe, just maybe this time I can repair what has been broken. First with bf, to show him that all I needed was a place to hold my fears, anger, realizations and vulnerability. Communication, always, even if it happens a little late. Sweet wake up, optional but definitely appreciated. Second with my family, funny that I'm rebuilding things from the ruins of past trauma, but they were ruins because I demolished them by hand, one by one. Sweat and Blood. Ruins of endless abuse cycles, and I said "No I don't want to" as my first ever spoken sentence when I was two. And my mom is so proud of that as she should be.

Because I'm her Wonder Woman.

And that's so wrong to be the Wonder Woman of your own mother, it should be the other way around. Yet she's projecting what she didn't have and what she couldn't be.

A heroine to save me.

And she's not wrong, because I became my own. I survived. At 3, at 15, 16, 17, at 20. I survived against myself at 25. I'm the heroine of that story. But how does the story ends ?? Well it ends at 6 am, when the world barely opens its eyes, and I impulsively bought pink and blue expensive semi-permanent hair dyes with other haircare stuff, impulsively cut my hair into a butterfly cut (which looks cute af) and then wrote this post after another mental breakdown. And the bf part ? Well we'll see in a few minutes...

Writing the next few parts of "Things I Learned from Wanting to die" are in the making right now, but I still need to read a few books, do some researches because I don't want to misinform people even if I'm just sharing my own experience, I think it's important for it to be backed up scientifically, even just for myself and the joy of doing it. So yes, I'm still continuing the series it's not dead I promise, those kinds of things just take more time and since I'm no longer in a manic episode I'm actually planning rather than rushing through making content.

For some context, today is a very sunny day, but like any spring day, it's super cold outside, but even from my windows, I can feel the warmth of a Spring Sun. The lighting isn't the same and my body can feel it.

One RedBull and a mental breakdown later, I'm typing here what I think is some kind of realization.

I'm punishing myself, mentally not physically. I'm creating this mental prison from which I cannot escape that mimics the abuse I've been a victim of. I have social anxiety. So much that I leave the house once every two months to go get my prescription from my psychiatrist. But other than that, I don't do anything. I'm lethargic. Life, sucked out of me.

Numbed.

And this isn't fair.

So I said to myself ...

KICK YOUR ASS AND GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE.

Like what's stopping me ? No one. Okay the world is hella scary, but I used to navigate it perfectly fine before so what has changed ? 2 things.

Heavy new trauma that happened before, during and after my very first hospitalization.

Aaaand selling my car

That cut out my independency in my mind, and don't get me wrong we have a car, but it's not mine, you know ? And we live in a tiny town, I don't know anything of it and I've been living here for 3 years. I kinda want to get back to my hometown because that's what's safe.

I know it's crazy, but I truly believe that moving away from my hometown is part of why I'm not leaving the house. Yet, I always loved to visit new places, like I was on adventures with my car, alone in the dark, fuck. I used to leave the house just to have a nice dinner by myself. What is stopping me ? MYSELF.

That's the answer I'm stopping myself from living and this has to end. So I'm typing this in the heat of the moment and posting it right as I finish, because I'll hold myself accountable.

Another thing that has been stirring up the how's and why's of me not going outside is my friend, you the deal, my best and only friend, and well they asked something very simple of me. They asked to see my neighborhood and how I was living as a disabled mentally ill woman.

And so when they asked that I was like "Omg I need to make a Vlog" and after shooting a few glimpses of life and my inspiration, I realized my life was dull as fuck. It wasn't super exciting before, but like I walked my dog in the forest everyday, which is my main inspiration, hell I have a mushroom tattooed on me.

So yeah, I lost my spark. That's the conclusion I made, and I'm preventing myself from being the free spirit I've always been.

And my dear friend helped in that realization, because they wanted to know what inspires me and right now it's memories. Looking back at pictures I took, I realized that my outside pictures were all taken from my window. And this is sad, I'm not romanticizing my life by wishing through the window, that I was outside. Because I can be outside and I should, and hell there's a river just a few hundred meters away from my house, it's magnificent and I'm never there. Hell I should be there right now, drawing the ducks on my iPad and maybe do some watercolor with river water.

Because this is who I am, this is what makes me special, the little wonders and whimsical things found in everyday life. The routine, the slow life I chose to live; Because it's beautiful and filled me so much fulfillment.

But here I feel safe, untouchable, like if I couldn't really get hurt by the world as long as I stay inside. But I'm also, by doing that, preventing myself from living. And living has a different meaning for people, but to me living is just breathing fresh air and looking at the blue sky on a cold spring afternoon.

And it comes from deep trauma and my abusers win if I don't get out of this house, they won if I can't step outside, just for 10 minutes, I make them win.

And I won't let them win ever again.

Due to some mental health reasons PART2 will be available after 8pm, but I'm not forgetting you I promise 🫶🏻🥺