Suicide

For years and years I lived in a fog. I barely remember high school, remember only a handful of friends and am fairly certain that none of them remember me. I spent most of my high school career in a suicidal funk. I was convinced that the world would be a much better place without me in it. I was convinced that no one would even notice if I wasn't in it. Thus was my menial existence from 12 years old on. The only time I can recall NOT feeling this way was as a missionary and even then sometimes the thought would pass through, but not stay. I recall a couple of occasions when I threatened suicide. I cut my wrist once, no where near my veins of course. I swallowed a bottle, literally, of aspirin which induced vomiting within moments so I didn't even need to go to the ER for that one. I guess part of me didn't *really* want to die, but it felt so out of my control. I never knew how life absorbing it was for others to feel responsible to keep me alive until last week.

Someone very close to me felt that everyone would be better off without him. That is an impossibility because he is so enmeshed into so many lives that the loss of him alone would forever alter many, many lives. His threat to me seemed sincere, as did his goodbye. I panicked, of course. I drove like a mad person trying to get to him, to even FIND him because he'd gone into the canyons around Tooele. I called the police and they thankfully got in touch with him and brought him back down out of the canyon. By then he'd of course calmed down. Said he just "needed to blow off steam". Said that that is why he drives so far away so that by the time he gets there he's not as upset anymore, can empty a clip and cool off. I went from sheer panic to vehemently pissed off. Just "blow off steam" ??!!! Then don't f$%^ing tell me that you're going to blow off your head!!

I don't understand why when I was like this and people expressed their concern, as I did for my person, the person won't accept help. I'm medicated now and more aware of the life around me, but still mildly oblivious to the damage I did to people, long lasting damage. I want so desperately to help him, to save him. I feel like an emotional hostage. I cannot say anything for fear of the repercussion, that what I say might rub him wrong, or give him the wrong impression of what I am really saying... Is this how people felt about me? Is this how I made people feel around me? Like they were walking on egg shells? Afraid to upset me? My remorse runs very deep for this. I never knew how it made people feel inside.

Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Things are difficult now, but there is always a way out. The end of story isn't written in stone, it's written in air until you decide how it ends. Nothing has to end badly. The trip might be bad, rocky and painful, but it doesn't have to end that way. I went through some of the most horribly painful awful days of my life in the last 4 1/2 years and the story could have been much different, it could have ended much differently. I'm thankful for the rocky, difficult parts. I hated them every moment I was in them, but it's stretched me and helped me to grow in ways that I wouldn't have before. I have a new appreciation for certain types of pain that people experience, even the excruciating pain of truly believing that you are worth nothing. I still fight with that one everyday. I wouldn't write the story differently, but the ending I can write now and in the future. I think I'll make it a happy ending where we all walk off into the sunset holding hands.