Week 6
Tuesday
Trying to deal with my worst fear. Everything pales in comparison. I've cried for two days and decided if it gets worse, that's the end for me. I've reached my limit, this is where I draw the line.
Words have power so I won't write 'out loud' what it is. This is my worst fear, I should've known, I've been avoiding this thing for nearly two decades. It's not death, and it's not the death of a loved one. All other fears fell away as soon as this one stepped into the light, made itself known and impossible to ignore any longer.
All I can do is give myself Reiki and try to relax, knowing that if this doesn't work itself out, I have nothing left to live for. It can't be fixed again.
It reminds me of the time there was a huge fire at night in one of the back-door neighbours' yards, their shed had been set on fire with some kind of explosive accelerant. I was terrified. Not just because it was only a few backyards away but it was around 2:30 a.m. and it felt like I was the only one awake at that hour. Everything was so quiet apart from the crackling of the fire.
I packed a bag after I called the emergency number and left. I had been scared of house-fires since I was a kid, so I was very afraid it would spread to this house. I walked out and didn't look back.
Every little worry, every petty fear and insecurity, everything I tried to hold onto, I let it all go.
Afterwards I saw how readily I left everything to the flames, everything I held dear in this house; old photographs, books, diaries, drawings, paintings, letters. I was completely willing to walk away with a pair of clean socks, a T-shirt and some money. It was a small revelation.
I don't know how this will turn out.
I can't express the depth of this fear. Maybe it speaks volumes how quiet I am, how subdued and resolved at the same time. This is the bottom line. Rock bottom.
Friday
Almost as tired when I get up as when I go to bed.
At least I can pinpoint where this is coming from (the body side of the coin anyway); as is so frequently the case, my bowels aren't working properly and not getting the nutrients from food. So tired.
Most physical issues are on the right side of my body, but I forgot about left and right side of the brain and what they connect to et cetera. Also I don't care enough to find out.
I could go on whining about this & that, all the things wrong with my body, but it doesn't really matter. It's all just effect, not cause.
I've come to understand more about suicide. Not the dramatic, emotional, severely depressed kind, the way I obsessed about it when I was a kid, but the calm, clean, calculated way, when you have decided "enough".
Just being done and planning your way out. Now I understand more fully what you see in films and documentaries, about people seemingly 'getting better' right before they kill themselves.
I don't know what's going to happen, but I do know that when it comes to getting off the merry-go-round, I have my plan ready. Previous experiences (falling into the water, getting choked) offer the comfort of suspecting it will be gentle, as Jed said: "as easy as falling off a log".
Death can be a comforting thought. Just knowing things won't always be like this. It will end at some point. Knowing that has helped in the past, and now it does again.
I am not depressed, I'm still fairly optimistic and still think anything could happen, including good things, including all my dreams coming true, and/or Truth replacing the dream. Anything could happen.
It could also not happen. I could be here like this until I die, with no contribution to the world whatsoever.
But only that thought is terrible because once I'm dead I couldn't care less. Death is the end of that as well.
I just want this to be my final life, therefore Truth must remain the most important thing on my mind.
Trying to deal with my worst fear. Everything pales in comparison. I've cried for two days and decided if it gets worse, that's the end for me. I've reached my limit, this is where I draw the line.
Words have power so I won't write 'out loud' what it is. This is my worst fear, I should've known, I've been avoiding this thing for nearly two decades. It's not death, and it's not the death of a loved one. All other fears fell away as soon as this one stepped into the light, made itself known and impossible to ignore any longer.
All I can do is give myself Reiki and try to relax, knowing that if this doesn't work itself out, I have nothing left to live for. It can't be fixed again.
It reminds me of the time there was a huge fire at night in one of the back-door neighbours' yards, their shed had been set on fire with some kind of explosive accelerant. I was terrified. Not just because it was only a few backyards away but it was around 2:30 a.m. and it felt like I was the only one awake at that hour. Everything was so quiet apart from the crackling of the fire.
I packed a bag after I called the emergency number and left. I had been scared of house-fires since I was a kid, so I was very afraid it would spread to this house. I walked out and didn't look back.
Every little worry, every petty fear and insecurity, everything I tried to hold onto, I let it all go.
Afterwards I saw how readily I left everything to the flames, everything I held dear in this house; old photographs, books, diaries, drawings, paintings, letters. I was completely willing to walk away with a pair of clean socks, a T-shirt and some money. It was a small revelation.
I don't know how this will turn out.
I can't express the depth of this fear. Maybe it speaks volumes how quiet I am, how subdued and resolved at the same time. This is the bottom line. Rock bottom.
Friday
Almost as tired when I get up as when I go to bed.
At least I can pinpoint where this is coming from (the body side of the coin anyway); as is so frequently the case, my bowels aren't working properly and not getting the nutrients from food. So tired.
Most physical issues are on the right side of my body, but I forgot about left and right side of the brain and what they connect to et cetera. Also I don't care enough to find out.
I could go on whining about this & that, all the things wrong with my body, but it doesn't really matter. It's all just effect, not cause.
I've come to understand more about suicide. Not the dramatic, emotional, severely depressed kind, the way I obsessed about it when I was a kid, but the calm, clean, calculated way, when you have decided "enough".
Just being done and planning your way out. Now I understand more fully what you see in films and documentaries, about people seemingly 'getting better' right before they kill themselves.
I don't know what's going to happen, but I do know that when it comes to getting off the merry-go-round, I have my plan ready. Previous experiences (falling into the water, getting choked) offer the comfort of suspecting it will be gentle, as Jed said: "as easy as falling off a log".
Death can be a comforting thought. Just knowing things won't always be like this. It will end at some point. Knowing that has helped in the past, and now it does again.
I am not depressed, I'm still fairly optimistic and still think anything could happen, including good things, including all my dreams coming true, and/or Truth replacing the dream. Anything could happen.
It could also not happen. I could be here like this until I die, with no contribution to the world whatsoever.
But only that thought is terrible because once I'm dead I couldn't care less. Death is the end of that as well.
I just want this to be my final life, therefore Truth must remain the most important thing on my mind.
posted by M. at 2:14 PM
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