The summer I thought I was dead

The Hudson River pulled me under and I was losing my strength, I was gasping for air and it felt like a tornado of water was swallowing me. “Today I die.” It happens so quickly. I was there in the middle of the river, fighting against a force so powerful, I could not have imagined it. Then I was not anywhere at all.

No one tried to save me. I realized later all three of them stood on the other side of the Hudson, just watching me struggle. I had longed to be valued and important to them, by him and his daughters .There was always only disdain from those girls. I had offered my house to them when he stopped paying on his old house and he lost it. Once he had a place to stay, the disdain crept in from him too. And the lies and manipulation started and I panicked. I went with them to the river because I thought it would keep them in my life . I just wanted to belong in a family my whole life, and this was, what I thought at the time, my last chance. I floated along, I tried to float towards him. He pushed me away, looking me in the eye without an expression on his face.

The other day I realized what I had told myself to have the strength to fight the swirling current. I knew the reality I denied was that my death would not affect many people, and the effect would be small. We were on the river adventure for one of the girl’s birthdays. My survival brain said one thing that kept my body moving and striving against that force no matter how hard: “if you die on HER BIRTHDAY it will really mess up her birthday from now on. It was for someone who hated me that I saved myself, not because I thought MY LIFE mattered.

Quite unexpectedly I started weeping at how screwed up that was, but also how it reflected my whole life. I was conditioned to remember what and who mattered, and what and who I had to value in order to survive… long before I could speak.

Weaning myself off an antidepressant at the same time after that event, the side effects were absolute Hell itself. Psych professionals have written of their personal experiences and how indescribable the suffering was. It’s hard to think about the most intense period of withdrawal, but I did start to suspect that I had really drowned in the Hudson River that day: “I am dead and I will soon begin to rot” . I wasn’t scared, it was what happened, and I was already in Hell anyway… I could not reach out for comfort because he would think I’m weak and worthless and he would leave me. I had to mask anything I was feeling or suffering from. That was a weight I pray I never have to bear alone again.