It has been a very long time since I put up any thing on this blog. I am very sorry for that and I sincerely apologize. Let’s hope that this one kind of makes up for the long hiatus.
By this time four days ago, I was trying to decide on a convenient and discreet enough way to end my life. Not once, not twice, multiple times. This had never happened before, just in case you’re wondering. I was wondering if I should use bilateral carotid pressure- that would have only been able to knock me out for a while, since I didn’t know if I could continue applying the pressure while I was unconscious. I though about Potassium Chloride, but I didn’t want to leave the ampoule and syringe anywhere where it could have been found. Worse still, any doctor worth his onions would notice the needle marks and tell my folks that I’d offed myself. I didn’t want anything too crazy or too painful. I didn’t want them to beat themselves too much over it.
Ironically, I was actually having a good day. So, one would wonder-what exactly was driving me to the edge?
My people have a saying that the thoughts that make a man decide to kill himself are not made in one night. I never thought I’d ever have to think of this in a way that wasn’t metaphorical. As most people who have ever gone down this path would attest, it never really is one thing. It is more like a flood of things, a recurring pattern, an avalanche of sorts that drowns out your sense of control and keeping it together, that little voice of reason in your head that steers you slowly, steadily forwards.
So, what sequence of events triggered this “seizure”?
I’ve had a really rough patch in recent times. What I’m going through now though seems like a joke compared to some of the things I have had to put up with before now. I remember telling someone a long time ago- “ I don’t care what it is that happens to me, I don’t care the size of the obstacles in front of me, once I really want to get from point A to point B, I will get there, period.” That was about 6 to 7 years ago-and I had meant every word.
For a very long segment of my life, I always held the reins. I had a Plan A through to Plan Z, for every single thing. If this happened, I would or wouldn’t do this. If this didn’t happen, not to worry, this would be the next line of action. I felt confident, I felt in charge, in control of my life, of my destiny. Were there unforeseen circumstances? I’d like to say that my adolescent brain had anticipated every single possibility, but that would be a flat out lie. There were many things that I didn’t see coming. But still, I’d just shrug my shoulders and wring my fingers and come up with another series of plans. As fulfilling as it was though, it was also very tiring. I slowly started to learn to relax the reins and surf the waves of life as they crashed into the shores of my life. I learned to “go with the flow” as my friend eloquently put it recently.
The long and short of the whole thing, is that I think that the waves have knocked my surfboard out from underneath me, the wild horse of circumstance has thrown me off her back and the reins have slipped from my fingers. And I am now in free fall- falling, failing, flailing.
Did I mention that I was acrophobic?
I feel like I have been played, manipulated, hypnotized, corralled, hoodwinked into a string of actions and inaction by situations, circumstances, events and happenings, people. I am riding centripetal. I am reacting, rather than proacting. Because I got too comfortable with living in the moment. And this pisses me off to no end. Pisses me off enough to want to go quietly and drop off the edge of the earth.
But I’ll be fine.