I've been in another round of dancing with my personal demon lately, and no, the demon's name is not alcoholism, despite what one might assume (cue my latest idol, Amy Winehouse, singing, "They tried to make me go to rehab, and I said, NO, NO, NO"). In my case, the nameless demon (and yes, some demons do have names: my somewhat combat-addled first fiance called his "Tobias") is suicide.
Somehow I think I've always known my personal story will have that ending [although to date my near-death experiences, of which I've had many, have had different themes, such as robbers armed with machetes in the Andes, undiagnosed gallbladder disease, household accident ending in dramatic scar on right wrist (how ironic for one of my flirtation to have only an accidental wrist scar!), careless drivers, meningitis, nearly drowning after getting caught in a riptide, etc...]. It doesn't sound bad to me; it seems like a natural fit, much like how when I got divorced back in the nineties, I told everyone who offered their condolences, "Eh, I always knew I'd be a gay divorcee." (What I didn't know was that my projected life of a single urban sophisticate was not on the cards, but instead a life featuring Mortgages and Small Children).
This makes sense to some. When I was engaged to the man with a personal demon, a hard-drinking member of the Special Forces who kept a lot of weapons stowed about our apartment, I told him that when I did consummate this flirtation, I was going to stage it so it looked like murder at his hands. In all seriousness, he said to me, "I'll fall more and more in love with you as I go through the criminal process." Ahh, sweet first love.
However, I have to spurn my suitor in this narrative or, at the very least, postpone this ending until I'm elderly and/or on the losing side of a medical crisis, due to the plot twist of small children in this tale. It's not just that, under the Sober Husband's stewardship, they would never be presented with a green vegetable ever again. I have a close family member who killed himself two years ago, and I can't put Iris and Lola through the aftermath. (The horrible thing is that in the case of my nephew, I think the only family members who were really bothered were me, his aunt, and his siblings. Of course, his high school friends and girlfriend were devastated, and their suffering at the funeral contrasted with the calm of the family members hideously).
God, the demands of parenting never end: must not kill self, must drive softball carpool, must work shift at preschool, must remember to bring check for afterschool enrichment program, &tc., &tc...
You have many more stories to tell. Don't go anywhere!
No! No! No!
(Amy Winehouse is pretty good)
Okay, as someone who has flirted with the same demon as you in the past, I will give you a metaphysical reason as to why not to do it (as if your children, husband, friends, kittens and rats were not enough!). This reason kept me from doing something stupid on many occasions. (It did not, however, prevent me from asking God to off me so I wouldn't have blood on my own hands. S/he never listened to my request...)
All of our souls are moving forward, evolving, trying to become better, and trying to reach that place of grace where we merge with the source. To do this often takes more than one lifetime. Souls will be born, then die, and probably hang around on the astral without a body for a while. Eventually they will decide to take a physical body again. Prior to doing this, they choose one or two lessons that they must learn in their coming lifetime. Then they take a body, have the life experiences that will teach them what they need to know, and when they die...lather, rinse, repeat.
If a person commits suicide, they don't resolve any of their problems, and don't learn those life lessons. Instead, they again find themselves on the astral, trying to sort out the life lessons they were supposed to learn (which is much, much more difficult when you don't have a human body). In addition, they often find themselves in limbo, unable to let go of the pain they were trying to escape...and having to deal with the pain, guilt and suffering they caused others with their untimely departure.
And the worst part about it? That grade you were trying to opt out of? Go to the back of the class! Start all over again! In the school of life, you don't get to skip lessons. Instead, you must repeat them until you get them right! This is why you will see people who end up in the same relationship, work situation, family situation, etc. over and over and over again. Once you learn the lesson, you can go on to the next problem.
DH, you have already put in many years in this lifetime, and accomplished many, many things. You are probably closer to breaking through this than you realize. What is the dark flirtation trying to teach you? Perhaps if you can crack its code, you can move forward and work on the next problem.
I will hold you in my prayers.
Are you writing about this because you're not going to do it? Or because you want help in keeping from doing it?? My friend Anne lost her mother to suicide at age 16 or so. It was completely devastating to her. She's also a writer and wrote about it here: http://www.nytimes.com/2006/01/29/fashion/sundaystyles/29LOVE.html?ex=1178856000&en=dfd4e437f6998289&ei=5070
Be kind to yourself. Reach out. Keep your bountiful mind occupied. We care about you and want to see you here!
Gabriela's mom in Berkeley
Ok, that link didn't work... search in NYTIMES for "two decembers" and you see it.
Hey, Drunken, I could have written much of that myself (except for the interesting parts).
I've been thinking a lot about death. I've always assumed I'd die young, this is a notion which infuriates a lot of people as they think it is a self-fulfilling prophesy.
Until I had kids I figured I'd eventually kill myself once and for all. But, now, I can't. I have to hang on until I die from some other cause because I'd never want my kids to use their magical thinking and blame themselves.
Recently I've been convinced that it will be a long drawn out bout with cancer during which I'll have to write long letters to my children to be read throughout their lives. OR, since moving to Arizona, I've decided I'm more likely to be run down by a Republican college Student trying to pass me on the right without a blinker in his Hummer.
But, I can't do any of that until I wean the baby, can you imagine what a pain the transition would be for my husband to cope with losing me and the baby's milk supply all at once?
I've already picked out his new wife (step-mother for my children). I've made him promise me that he would try to court this woman if I die early.
Different Anonymous here, no baby :)
I'm wondering if you're sorry you wrote this yet, and if you are going to delete the post. Even though I'm probably further from consummating my own dark flirtation than I've ever been, I don't talk about it. People get so upset. More than just to worry for you, there's this taboo against seeing tragedy as part of the color of life rather than a sin against it. A woman with a chronic illness once described this as people being almost personally affronted by her "refusal" to get well or expect to become "normal" again.
I'm not making enough sense to go further than that. I'll try to come back when I don't have a meeting in ten minutes.
OK, here goes.
#1 reason for YOU to not off yourself.
If you do, Dubya and the forces of darkness win! Another defender of the oppressed will be gone! You don't want Elmer Fudd/Karl Rove to wake up in the night with an "I WON!" wet dream do you?
And the same goes for the rest of you left of center darkness flirters! (right of center, yeh, you probably ought to check out now, it's not going to get any better)
oh my sweet sweet DH. thoughts of suicide are a human connection we all share, myself included. in the end however, it's all just so much WORK. pills, timing, odds and ends, etc. i don't have the patience. working out suicide is like a dinner party for people you hate. ugh.
you certainly don't want to miss the exclamations of madames lola and IUA. as i don't want to miss polly.
there's nothing unusual about these thoughts. following them through is where you should seek another outlet.
OK, that's enough scaring us all. You're officially on suicide watch. You need to check in on your blog at least once a day.
And, although I said Amy Winehouse is pretty good, I think you need to limit your exposure to her right now. Also, no Nine Inch Nails for the time being either.
Chiming in late (it takes a while for the internet waves to reach the far side of the world, y'know) ...
Your blog is one of the best and funniest things to read on the web. Stay! Keep writing! I'm being purely selfish here, but how will I know what your kids are up to if you don't stick around to keep writing about them?
Think of all the movie sequels you won't get to see if you off yourself.
Movie sequels...now I think I want to off MYSELF!
I know, Silliyak, this could be a real opportunity for the more sadistic readers... Sequels! bad television! hangnails! Sinus infections! Painful family visits!
...renewing your driver's license, root canal surgery, pantie-hose...
oh, that's fun.
...tupperware parties, televangelists, circus peanuts(the candy not the but)...
...UTI's, magnolia-tree litter, dry states...
I've found my calling!
I thought about this posting today while reading a WaPo article about suicide rates among rural Chinese wives.
My personal demon keeps trying to pass himself off as Cthulu, but I don't believe him. I know d@mn well that the tentacles are just a rubber mask.
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