It’s amazing what we do in order to prove to the world that everything’s OK, that we’re not struggling. So many words that can give a positive impression, without really saying that much:
‘OK’
‘Fine’
‘Good’
‘Not bad’
‘Never better’
All of these words, phrases, so often just used as a simple get-out clause so we don’t have to further explain our inner turmoils and struggles. Just a simple reply, with no explanation, that allows the one asking the question to feel at ease.
Yet, underneath it all, behind that reply there’s a darkness, a swirling tornado of black eating up our insides. There is no way out, we’re trapped, and our only possible salvation is someone who we’re afraid to confide in lest they are scared away by the truth.
The thing is, it’s not that we necessarily don’t want to tell people what’s going on, it’s just that sometimes we’re unable to. Sometimes you just get used to your own sadness, your own company, your own loneliness, and it’s easier to hide behind it and not share what’s going on. Other times you know that if you do tell you will lose a friend or two that could otherwise make you happy when you need it most.
Mental turmoil is a very delicate thing. It’s led me to going absolutely crazy before now and just telling too much, sometimes to the wrong people, flooding people in my desperate need to get it all out of my system. At other times, it’s led me to not leaving my bed, lying awake for several hours in the morning and long into the afternoon just wondering why I still even exist and what the world would do if I just disappeared.
Where is the balance? How is it even possible to find balance amongst all this chaos? Does it require medication, patience, perseverance, resilience, none of which I have? Does it require friends, most of which will get overloaded at some point? Does it require a permanent end?
I’m going to be straight here. I’m not actually suicidal right now, but I know people who are getting to that point and it makes me afraid. I have been at that point myself in the past and I know that at some point there comes a tipping in the balance where it will all get too much again. I do have a lot of strength, but it is not infinite. My life is far from perfect right now and I feel the darkness calling sweetly and seductively with the temptation of a dangerous yet exciting lover that you both love and hate at the same time.
All this makes me realise that there’s one thing I’ve been failing to do of late – living. The truth is, whatever anyone says or does, I’m the one who has the true power over my own life. It’s time to play my last ace, to use the last remnants of my strength to pick myself up and move forward, into the unknown. Make a jump, take a chance, and feel alive once more.
Showing posts with label suicide. Show all posts
Showing posts with label suicide. Show all posts
Tuesday, 21 October 2014
Wednesday, 19 October 2011
Unleashing the Lion
Perhaps not the right title for what I'm about to write about (although it could be - depends on how you view it, I guess), but it was the first thing that actually came into my head whilst thinking about it.
I've been reading a lot and thinking a lot about changes, endings, etc. Everything has its time; nothing lasts forever. Even my latest tarot reading was talking about changes coming up, new starts, ending of the old. It has to happen eventually, the one thing that is inevitable in life - death. That goes as much for any kind of relationship, any phase in life, as much as for the physical reality of the ending of life itself. And for all that I can live with minor or major changes (preferably minor, and that goes for songs, too), have always been able to adapt, the one thing that has always scared me (aside from spiders) is death.
You would have thought that, after all I've been through, that death would be the one thing I could accept most easily of all. There have been a couple of times when that has seemed like not just the easiest but the only way out - better to let myself go than to be abandoned again. But, that's just it - the changes that come with the death of anything always leave you feeling like you've been abandoned, like you've done something wrong, that perhaps you weren't the best person you could have been. Why risk going there again, exposing yourself to it again, when it's only going to lead to more pain?
Risks. Every single day I go outside, every time I speak to someone, there's always such a great risk involved. Do they actually like me? Will I be too much for them today? How much can I say before they run away from me, screaming, because I've overdone it again? Will they think that I don't like them, I'm ignoring them, if I hold myself at a distance? Can I trust them? For all that I have calmed down in recent years, the lessons of the past are still there in my mind, so easy for me to see. Means that I mostly hold myself at a distance, try not to get too close. But, then... Then there's someone that's different, unique, not like most people. Someone who understands, even if it's only in a small part, what goes on in my mind at times, how I see the world. Then it's like my foot slips off the brake onto the accelerator, and I go crashing full speed into a wall, only to be left broken and disappointed again. Yes, that's quite it - I unleash the lion and let it ravage my victim until they can't breathe, just because I can't get enough of the glorious vibe that they give me.
Almost everything with me is done with great intensity. I'm miserable to the extreme. I'm happy to the extreme. I hate to the extreme. I love to the extreme. The balance in the middle? My mind just skips over, or barely notices; notices to the extreme at times the little minute details that no one pays any attention to, analyses to the extreme. But that bit right in the middle, between all the extremities? It makes it feel like I'm floating on thin air, suspended temporarily, about to fall into one of many pits that lay below me, without a choice of which one I'll fall into. Wouldn't mind it so much if 95% of them didn't have spikes in! Oh, the pain, again! Why is there always so much pain involved? Haven't I suffered enough already?
So, because of all this craziness, yes - every relationship, no matter on what level, is a great risk for me. Sometimes I am just far too intense for people to cope with, which means that they always run away in the end, or just shut me out. The worst part about this is is that people start off by liking me, because I can be caring, kind, helpful, funny, and the milder side of me that they're exposed to isn't so extreme that it's a problem. A bit quirky, maybe, but nothing that's too much for them to handle. Oh, but then... Then I open up the door of the arena, once I'm comfortable with being around someone, and they see all the dark beasts that are lurking behind the gate...
Some people start shouting at me then, unable to believe that the princess has turned into a monster rather than the other way around. Others slink away, never to be heard from again, avoiding you if you ever see them...
I think, for me, it's easier to deal with those that confront you face to face, who aren't so shy about it. At least then I know what I've done wrong this time, I can deal with it, apologise for it (luckily I am able now to control the urge to continuously apologise forever, eventually apologising for apologising for apologising for... Yeah, you get it), then move on as needed (unlike how I used to hang at the door, calling every now and then, trying to act normal about the situation when I couldn't, really, as I still remember how much it hurt). Yes, it hurts, so much so that I think I'll explode with the amount of pain I feel. But knowing gives me the chance to reflect, to improve, and to try and control myself better next time (not always possible, but I can still try).
My inner cat is so ferocious it could destroy worlds. Or, at least, other people's. Even easier, it destroys mine quite often. It's something I've gotten used to over the years, makes me even more suspicious of people, even more cautious than I've ever been about friendships. Yet I still seem to get it wrong, still can't be anyone but myself, the destroyer. But no matter how much I am aware of the fact that this happens, the fact that nothing lasts forever, I still fear it so greatly and it is something I can never completely accept. I mean, I thought breaking my hand last year was painful. I've had various other painful injuries. But all considering, I can live with physical pain far easier than I can ever live with the mental anguish, the inner pain, where my gut just feels like it's trying to rip itself apart.
It is almost Samhain, the time when the veil between the worlds is at its thinnest, the time when the old world changes, prepares for its sleep, so the new world can wake again with spring. Nothing lasts forever. Everything changes. So, with tears in my eyes, I prepare for the next step. The new beginning.
I've been reading a lot and thinking a lot about changes, endings, etc. Everything has its time; nothing lasts forever. Even my latest tarot reading was talking about changes coming up, new starts, ending of the old. It has to happen eventually, the one thing that is inevitable in life - death. That goes as much for any kind of relationship, any phase in life, as much as for the physical reality of the ending of life itself. And for all that I can live with minor or major changes (preferably minor, and that goes for songs, too), have always been able to adapt, the one thing that has always scared me (aside from spiders) is death.
You would have thought that, after all I've been through, that death would be the one thing I could accept most easily of all. There have been a couple of times when that has seemed like not just the easiest but the only way out - better to let myself go than to be abandoned again. But, that's just it - the changes that come with the death of anything always leave you feeling like you've been abandoned, like you've done something wrong, that perhaps you weren't the best person you could have been. Why risk going there again, exposing yourself to it again, when it's only going to lead to more pain?
Risks. Every single day I go outside, every time I speak to someone, there's always such a great risk involved. Do they actually like me? Will I be too much for them today? How much can I say before they run away from me, screaming, because I've overdone it again? Will they think that I don't like them, I'm ignoring them, if I hold myself at a distance? Can I trust them? For all that I have calmed down in recent years, the lessons of the past are still there in my mind, so easy for me to see. Means that I mostly hold myself at a distance, try not to get too close. But, then... Then there's someone that's different, unique, not like most people. Someone who understands, even if it's only in a small part, what goes on in my mind at times, how I see the world. Then it's like my foot slips off the brake onto the accelerator, and I go crashing full speed into a wall, only to be left broken and disappointed again. Yes, that's quite it - I unleash the lion and let it ravage my victim until they can't breathe, just because I can't get enough of the glorious vibe that they give me.
Almost everything with me is done with great intensity. I'm miserable to the extreme. I'm happy to the extreme. I hate to the extreme. I love to the extreme. The balance in the middle? My mind just skips over, or barely notices; notices to the extreme at times the little minute details that no one pays any attention to, analyses to the extreme. But that bit right in the middle, between all the extremities? It makes it feel like I'm floating on thin air, suspended temporarily, about to fall into one of many pits that lay below me, without a choice of which one I'll fall into. Wouldn't mind it so much if 95% of them didn't have spikes in! Oh, the pain, again! Why is there always so much pain involved? Haven't I suffered enough already?
So, because of all this craziness, yes - every relationship, no matter on what level, is a great risk for me. Sometimes I am just far too intense for people to cope with, which means that they always run away in the end, or just shut me out. The worst part about this is is that people start off by liking me, because I can be caring, kind, helpful, funny, and the milder side of me that they're exposed to isn't so extreme that it's a problem. A bit quirky, maybe, but nothing that's too much for them to handle. Oh, but then... Then I open up the door of the arena, once I'm comfortable with being around someone, and they see all the dark beasts that are lurking behind the gate...
Some people start shouting at me then, unable to believe that the princess has turned into a monster rather than the other way around. Others slink away, never to be heard from again, avoiding you if you ever see them...
I think, for me, it's easier to deal with those that confront you face to face, who aren't so shy about it. At least then I know what I've done wrong this time, I can deal with it, apologise for it (luckily I am able now to control the urge to continuously apologise forever, eventually apologising for apologising for apologising for... Yeah, you get it), then move on as needed (unlike how I used to hang at the door, calling every now and then, trying to act normal about the situation when I couldn't, really, as I still remember how much it hurt). Yes, it hurts, so much so that I think I'll explode with the amount of pain I feel. But knowing gives me the chance to reflect, to improve, and to try and control myself better next time (not always possible, but I can still try).
My inner cat is so ferocious it could destroy worlds. Or, at least, other people's. Even easier, it destroys mine quite often. It's something I've gotten used to over the years, makes me even more suspicious of people, even more cautious than I've ever been about friendships. Yet I still seem to get it wrong, still can't be anyone but myself, the destroyer. But no matter how much I am aware of the fact that this happens, the fact that nothing lasts forever, I still fear it so greatly and it is something I can never completely accept. I mean, I thought breaking my hand last year was painful. I've had various other painful injuries. But all considering, I can live with physical pain far easier than I can ever live with the mental anguish, the inner pain, where my gut just feels like it's trying to rip itself apart.
It is almost Samhain, the time when the veil between the worlds is at its thinnest, the time when the old world changes, prepares for its sleep, so the new world can wake again with spring. Nothing lasts forever. Everything changes. So, with tears in my eyes, I prepare for the next step. The new beginning.
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