I can’t remember if I have mentioned this before or not. But years ago I went through some circumstances in which I seriously considered killing myself. It was for a stupid reason. Not cowardice. I was tired of hurting, or being rejected, of suffering, of not fitting in. I saw my future very clearly and there was nothing in it. Nothing that has happened as I type this, in that future, has changed my mind. Not even the smile of that young lady can brighten the dark thoughts going through my head right now, in this moment.
There are those who would tell me this is a, “Dark Night of the Soul.” Part of spiritual growth. I will not deign to give this a name or a any sort of title. I will simply call this what it is. Suffering. Suffering heaped in suffering. I can not move on, no matter how much I know I need to, even no matter how much I might want to. My anger has returned to haunt me today. As I said before I do not want to be how I was before… Well before the cause of my suffering. I refuse to revert to those old ways.
I determined that I would carry on, push through, no matter how hard it got. But as I said before, it has already been hard, all my life, and has only gotten harder. I feel as if I am in a room with no doors, windows, secret passages, any exit or escape at all. I have run my hands over every single square inch, tried everything. I realized tonight I am not in a room, I am in a cell, a prison. The only way to escape is to kill myself. Death is the only escape.
My only comfort is this… That whatever awaits me beyond this life, be it an open plain or another room, at least I have one more chance to be free. I am also not killing myself before trying everything, fighting hard, to stay alive, Some of the old reasons may be back, but time has only enforced them. Quite simply, there is no place for me in this world. If there was I would have found it by now. I am finding resistance in living itself. If I am truly following the flow, the the obvious solution is that I am a mistake and should not be here, that staying here is using force, the antithesis of flow.
As a Christian I gave control of my life to God. As something more than Christian I tried to follow the flow, which is powered or controlled by God, or perhaps even is God. But God, be He energy, male, female, other – He has failed me twice now, as a Christian, and as whatever the hell I am now.
I just can’t continue without some relief, some clear course of action, some support, some sort of assistance. I need a friend, or a teacher, or a guide. Someone here, tangible, that I can touch and communicate with. Someone I can understand, who, although they may be at a level beyond me, they are able to clearly remember what it was like for them when they were like me, and they can therefore help me get through. Someone who won’t ask me to dig out my checkbook or give me a jar with, “Donations” written on it. I understand that teachers have to make a living. I do.
But I want someone who would rather starve themselves and go around naked than not help someone in need like me. I am in a crises here and I need someone who does not need me to pay them back. Preferable someone who is not running around naked and starving. Someone who has the resources to support themselves even as they are helping me.
No more words constructing hard to understand concepts. No more telling me that what I am going through is, “only this” or, “only that.” Someone who genuinely cares and who has the knowledge, power, determination, patience, wisdom, and spiritual power to pull me through and past this. To knock down the walls, either themselves or by showing me how to do so. No more wandering around wondering who I am, what my dream is, and how I am supposed to be or do anything I desire with my limited resources.
Other people somehow find a way out from the bottom and the mass of humanity, like rats in a barrel, clawing and biting their way up. They find another way, and I want to find my way, whatever the best way for me in my ideal life course at this time may be.
But most of all no more loss. I know we have suffer losses. I know we all suffer them all our lives. But it has to stop for me for now. At least until I get through this and get back on my feet. Because right now the losses are straddling me and beating me into a bloody pulp. I am unable to fight back. I am defenseless. They are, quite literally if indirectly, killing me.
I missed out on a free yoga class tonight. That’s the straw that broke the camel’s back. Never mind that I have a free coupon for a class, that I could use that if I am so desperate for a free class. That is not the point. The point is this mattered to me and somehow I forgot to go. My memory failed me. My mind betrayed me. And by all accounts this is not the first time. My heart also has betrayed me. I can no longer trust myself at all. I am at war with myself and in this sort of fight nobody can win. It is ripping me apart, much like the calender I ripped from the wall in anger tonight. I had it written down there too, the info for the free yoga class. I needed and wanted that class.
Much like I needed and wanted all the little dreams I had written down for this year, the intentions I had set. So many things I wanted to do. I even chose that calendar based on a little real world magic, that if you choose the right calendar it will have an effect on your life. Hard to explain, read Moss’s work for more. The point is that I didn’t get to do any of those things on that list. That I was stuck here at home all summer. That I will, in all likelihood, be here all winter too. I wonder if I will ever get to leave this accursed piece of shit house and get away from my smothering, narrow-minded family and find my own fucking way through this so far miserable and unwanted life.
No I am done. Done with fear keeping me from stopping my bike and introducing myself to a girl with a smile that challenges the sun for warmth and radiance. Done with being alone, of not being able to experience the closeness of a female counterpart. Done with missing out on things that matter to me. Done with being a broke-ass piece of white trash. The only difference between me and what others cruelly label as “trailer trash” is that I get the questionable blessing of a small room on the second floor of my grandmother’s house. At least those so cruelly labeled have a home, and most of them have a dream or a purpose. I don’t have any of these things. I am the true trash, the true detritus of this world. So far it seems the only way I will ever contribute is to end myself and let my rotting corpse feed the worms.
So I am done. One more thing, just one more, without something working out in my favor, and I’m ending it, and I will do so with a clear conscience. Because I really did try to make it. It sucks because there are so many gifts I have been blessed with. But that only makes it worse, Because what kind of looser am I to have these gifts, even my intelligence, and not be able to figure out how to use them to escape this damn cell? These gifts should be shared with others. Can positively change the lives of others, should they, of course, want to change. But once I end it, all those gifts are gone, wasted on me. So maybe I won’t have such a clear conscience afterall. What could I say to God if I stood before Him and He asked me what I did with all the gifts He gave me? Even my life itself is a gift. But I have done nothing of any merit, as merit is judged by God, with any of it. All I could say, standing there, is, “I just couldn’t figure out how.” How stupid is that?
But I am tired of hurting. I said it countless times before, and I meant it every time. I am tired of the pain. Tired of missing out. Tired of having no idea whatever the hell I should be doing with these gifts, including the gifts of my life and health. The Buddhists seem to see this, “Directionless” or “Signlessness” as an ideal state. If I could meet one of them and trade them for a direction, a sign, I would. Because wandering around here while I am in so much pain is living torture. I can’t move forward. Can’t continue my spiritual growth and change my whole outlook and mind. I can only hold the line here or let go and revert. At least if the times comes I end it, I will have kept holding the line. I won’t go back to how I was, no matter what. I will stay stuck here, or I will find a way forward. But those are the only two choices I will accept.
Tomorrow is another day. I hope, I pray, it is far better that these last few months of days have been.