Wish I had died

It's well after 2 am and it doesn't appear that I'll be able to get any sleep tonight. Took my Geodon and Restoril at around midnight, and while I am tired, my brain is currently in overdrive and won't shut down so I can fall asleep. The culprit is the ruminating thoughts over still being shunned by my family for trying to kill myself in April.

Everyone was invited to my sister's house for a Father's Day barbeque yesterday, everyone except me and my daughter. The excuse I was given for why the old people were going over there was because my sister needed to do laundry and couldn't come over here. I know she's very busy lately and I understand her inviting people over so she could get other things done around the house. However, that's no excuse for why I wasn't invited to join them. The old people tried to cover up the fact that my brother was also there, but I knew he was.

As I've said before, I understand why they were initially mad at me. Attempting suicide just days before my brother-in-law was scheduled to go into the hospital to have his cancerous thyroid removed couldn't have been a worse time. They were already extremely stressed over that and I made things worse. But it's not like I planned it that way. It's not as if I decided...oh hey, I think I should make their life an even bigger living hell right now by committing suicide.

I will never regret trying to kill myself, but I will forever regret having sent the text I did to my sister, especially because of how much it hurt her and my family. If I could go back in time and change that part, I would in a heartbeat. But I didn't send the text in the hopes of being rescued and I didn't specifically pick that sister to send it to. My sole focus that night was on dying. I had a brief moment where I realized I hadn't left a note for my daughter, so I sent a text....to the last person I'd texted that wasn't my daughter. If the last number had been that of a friend or even a radio station, they would have been the ones to get the text. Unfortunately, my sister's number was next in line after my daughter's.

While I understand their anger, no one's even bothering to take even a second to try and look at things from my perspective. No one's ever thought, wow...how sick is she, how much pain is she in that she felt suicide was a reasonable option. They don't care. They all think they know what depression is and as my older sister said in a nasty email to me months ago "I don't know you any more and I can't deal with any of your problems", said after her comments about how I'm not the only one with problems, so I know they don't understand just how sick I am, and really don't give a flying fuck to even listen or educate themselves about mental illness.

And people wonder why I'm not more open about my illness. Even if I had given full disclosure of what's been going on with me since I was 13, they wouldn't care. They wouldn't try to understand and be supportive. They would have simply rejected me far sooner than they did. I know this and I should just accept that I've finally gotten the one thing I'd always wanted as a child....I'm basically an only child now. But it hurts like hell because I love my siblings. I love my nieces and nephews, especially my younger sister's two daughters. Now I doubt I will ever get to see them again.

I really wish I had died that day. I really do.