In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Beyond the Pale.”
Yesterday I( was reading another posting by someone and they mentioned how they had contemplated suicide in the past. My heart sort of left the building for a minute and wanted to search out this person. I knew I couldn’t fix anything for them other than maybe listen. Interestingly the television was turned on ESPN and a Public Service Announcement about wanting to hurt yourself began playing in the background. The message was getting louder and clearer, tell someone.
There are a lot of nasty thoughts that have gone through my head. All of them ending with my existence being removed from the playing field. Drugs, cars, randomly creating an “accident” around the house, they have all been there. Maybe I should be honest, they are there right now. Yesterday I caused me to double up my time frame with the therapist. The topic I thought I could handle became something so much darker and so much quicker than I anticipated. She just looked at me and said, I’m going to skip lunch and we need to keep talking. Right now! The force of her voice wasn’t the “I’m asking if you want to talk variety”, it was more “We can talk here, or someplace more secure!”
How does this meet today’s topic? Saying this to anyone is so outside of who I have become that I am afraid I’ll delete this and substitute it with some passage about wanting to go skydive! (don’t read anything into that, it would also be out of character for me to jump out of a perfectly functioning airplane.) That article I was supposed to post for Writing 101 talked about fear. My fear of being left alone. Being forgotten while I’m still here. It’s just another sign that my brain is playing games with words, but without the friends.
Right now I need a hug so badly I’d take it from a toothless, homeless 400 pound transvestite who looked at me and went “Damn son, you don’t look happy. Let Momma make it better.” Instead I need to write a letter to someone whose birthday party I have to skip because my medical stuff means not being around “unknown illnesses” that might further set back the chemo. I even have to lie about what’s going on because this man is so empathetic to others, I don’t want him to know just how sick I physically am. I don’t want that to become a topic for discussion when celebration is the rule of the day.
So today I plant my flag firmly in the category of people whom fight that demon every damn day. Hoping that the “win” they need comes in some minor package, wrapped with a note that says “Hi! I know you’re still here!” Such sad words to write, knowing that for some they mean the difference between whether or not they will see the sunrise tomorrow morning. Now it’s time to go make a joke of this all. I know the Cancer will get me faster than anything else, but it’s a fun race in my mind!