--Home--
*****
I don't mind the abuse
It fills in time when I'm not much use
But it's killing me
Killing me slowly
*****
I had never had thoughts like these before. Life-threatening thoughts. Thoughts that led me to think about the true meaning of my place on God's green earth.
A tad philosophical, sure, but at times of struggle what else do we have left?
Not much. Not for me anyway. I was alone, physically and emotionally. My parents were too busy with high-society shin-digs, my co-workers, who I took as friends, too caught up in their own problems to consider mine.
And I know it sounds selfish...suicide is a selfish thing. I always thought that those people who couldn't be bothered to try, didn't feel like making a vague attempt at improving the situation, weren't worth my time of day. Yet here I was, seriously considering following their good example and ending it all, here and now.
Did you ever get the feeling of total helplessness? The feeling in the pit of your stomach that nothing you do will make a difference, the feeling that you're as good as dead anyway? I never experienced it until recently. And as days went by, and I tried to ignore it, it just grew, feeding on my insecurities and taking me over until I descended in to what I am now - contemplating death.
*****
They all say I'm too restless
But words cut deep when you're defenseless
And they're killing me
Killing me slowly
*****
There are a lot of things to consider. What would I be giving up? Was it worth it? And the answers didn't come easily.
There was that person, my one true love. Love hurts - though I don't know why it took me so long to learn this basic tenent of life, what we should all know upon birth. Life hurts, why not love? Nothing feels as good as love, and nothing hurts like it either. Would they miss me if I was gone? Am I their one true love? I doubted it. If all that was on offer was friendship, then I'd rather forgoe it. All I got from that was pain at being so close, and yet so far.
Friendship is a nice idea in theory. You have friends who gather around you at your beck and call, listening to you and talking to you and just *being* there. That's the theory. In real life there is no friendship, just a few amicable acquaintances who use you and then discard you like trash. Bitterness resides where I once had love for friends.
There's that word again. Love. It echoes around my mind, like it's trying to rub salt in the wound. No one loves me. At least I found that out whilst I could still do something about it.
*****
I've been told that loves a celebration
But I've lost faith through frustration
And it's killing me
Killing me slowly
*****
It would be a quick, easy death. The right combination and I would be gone. The weight off my shoulders. The feeling inside me gone forever.
It's tempting.
I've been through nothing but hell...so was this my opportunity to get my sorry ass in to heaven? Would I even get in to heaven? Did I even *believe* in heaven?
A nice concept, that's for sure. The thought of eternal life is very appealing. But, come to think of it, I don't think I would get a chance at the Pearly Gates. Too much has happened, too much has gone wrong, I've done too many things I regret. And regrets do not an angel make.
So, would an eternity of hellfire and damnation welcome me with open arms? That was a sad thought. If that was what was waiting for me on the other side of life, I may as well stick around here - at least you were privvy to some simple pleasures on Earth.
I picked up the pill bottle and studied the contents for a good fifteen minutes. It amazes me how these little white pills could end life so abruptly when they are made to heal, to prolong life. Of course, as a doctor I know what's in them, I know how easy it is to get them out of the system - and I chose some paricularly strong ones. Death, it seems, is within easy reach.
*****
You paint my picture black
The jokes on me
And I don't wanna laugh
What about the good times?
Won't you bring them back someday, somehow?
*****
How can it be that while I contemplate suicide, the world outside is dark and peaceful? Can't they hear my head screaming for help, my heart aching for love, my soul dying for divine retribution? It deafens me, and yet they are totally unaware. It's painfully ironic.
*****
I can't go on and on
Pretending nothing's wrong
Maybe I just want to belong someday, somehow
Somehow
*****
The pills are in my hand. But my arm is frozen in place, ignoring my screaming head and heart.
I can't do it.
And I know why. My eyes, wandering helplessly as if detatched from the rest of my body, locked in place on a picture frame. And there he was. Smiling back at me, his eyes holding mine in a gaze. My conflicting emotions go haywire as my heart explodes. Why did I want to leave him? If our friendship was ruined, then it was my job to build it up again. And if I love him so much, why don't I just tell him?
Suicide won't prove my love. Maybe nothing will. But it's strangely comforting that at least I have a chance, one shot at hitting the jackpot.
I've changed my tune. Call me fickle, call me attention-seeking. But every day has a personal crisis. Todays was just a bit bigger than usual.
And hopefully tomorrow would be quiet on the personal crisis front. Maybe I should get rid of these pills before I descend in to depression again, and before I lose all self-control and common sense.
Maybe I should talk to him. Tell him how I feel.
I stood up. I had the rest of my life to tell him, but I couldn't wait another second. I picked up the phone, and dialled rapidly. Then he answered, and my world stopped spinning.
"John? It's Deb."
*****