Six months ago today I was making a suicide attempt. I had been in "bad depression" for a month and a half when I wanted to stop everything. Why? I had everything to be happy. I lived with a man I loved, I earned a good living, I did not have any health problems. Yet my past pursued me and every day I had a little more the feeling of being a burden for my entourage, to be useless, to be useless. Born of unknown father, I was recognized by my mother's husband at the age of two. This state of affairs has never been hidden from me. As far back as I can remember, I always knew it. Yet the subject of my birth was taboo. Nobody spoke to me about it and I did not dare to ask questions. Little by little, I convinced myself that I was the result of rape and that I should never have been born. Little, at home, we never said "I love you". We never made compliments, any gap was sanctioned by blows. I was the "good for nothing" and in my mind, I stayed despite the success of my engineering studies and my professional career. And then, there was sex ...
At the age of 14, I thought that my adoptive father was trying to have incestuous relationships with me. There was also my half-sister who had committed suicide, my relatives who disappeared one by one, my bouts of bulimia-vomiting ... And six months ago, I wanted to put an end to all that, that which does not should not have been born would return to nothingness. A friend saved my life. Ten days in the hospital for psychiatric emergencies, then six weeks in a psychiatric clinic helped me to regain the desire to live. Not for me, but for all who had supported me in this ordeal and thanks to whom I discovered that I could be loved. When I left the clinic, my friend had left me. So I took a new apartment alone and started psychotherapy (which I am still).
I gradually resumed work and especially reestablished the dialogue with my family. I then discovered that I was the fruit of my mother's first love, that she had discovered her pregnancy only after they had broken up and that she had decided to keep me without saying anything to my biological father. Now, I know his name, his last known address, but I did not get in touch with him, maybe one day ... I told my adoptive father the sexual anguish I have always felt, more this morning he came to my bed. He told me that he never had any sexual intentions: he was just trying to get closer to me and did not react to my rejection. We talked about blows, their constant reproaches, the lack of compliments in childhood.
Today I am no longer the good for nothing that should not have been born.I am no longer the victim of incest, I resumed a normal life and I am followed for my eating disorders that are becoming increasingly rare. And, a month ago, I responded to an ad in Psychologies and magic has operated: we fell madly in love with each other and we have the impression to live a dream awake full of promise future. Here, I would like to bring this testimony for all those who, like me six months ago, no longer believe in life. To tell them that nothing is ever lost and that life has pleasant surprises. By establishing dialogue, by deciding to take care of myself, I managed to get out of the disease. It's within everyone's reach, so keep hope.