But I lost myself
- September 18, 2015
- LoudSilences
- 4 Comments
4 Comments
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I can relate. From about fifteen til I was almost thirty, I felt like I did not wish to be here. And, mine was not born out of sadness, or depression, but just that everything one did seemed to be a struggle, with moments of immense boredom, in between. And, for what? Just to eventually die anyway, right? And although a few would remember us upon our passing, in the big scheme of things, we are forgotten, just like we currently know nothing of even some of the most famous folks of a bygone era, let alone all the bit players, like most of us are. No, I was not going to wait for death to catch me by surprise. I would do it myself, and thereby proving that I had some control over something, in a largely uncontrollable world that does not really seem to matter anyway. It would be a way for me to at least retain my dignity, I reasoned, like spending all the money that a thief would soon steal, before he had the chance. And, when I thought I was ready to finally do this, I moved out into the woods, in a RV, had bought a .45 mm handgun, and gradually distanced myself, as much as I could, from those that cared about me, over the course of a year, as I truly did not want to hurt any of them. They just did not understand, and I felt they would soon forget about me, with time. I had strange thoughts play out in my head, as I planned it all out, like who would eventually find my body, or maybe it wouldn't be found, especially if the woodland critters got to it before a human did. Should I leave a note, or just a body? And if I did leave a note, should it be cryptic, or straightforward? Funny, or solemn? Respectful, or irreverent? After all, it would be my legacy, even if for a short time, so how would I wish to be remembered? Should I get drunk before I do this, or would that be too cliche? Should I clue someone in, right before, without being too specific and raising unwanted attention, so in case I was not found, someone would put it together, eventually.This and a thousand other thoughts went through my head as my plan drew ever closer to being commenced. And, I'm not exactly sure how, or even when it happened, and it very well could have been my ego's excuse for not having the balls to carry out my plan, trying to justify it, but all those questions and thinking out all the possibility started a spark that somehow reignited a sudden interest in life again. I mean, I still wanted to take myself out, but I also wanted to stay and see how it all turned out, too. I know it probably sounds strange and confusing, as those two things directly oppose each other, but (to use two hundred dollar words together) this dichotomy created an epiphany, and the old me, the unappreciative and immature one that wanted to die, actually did, yet, I, the one that is still here today, lived on. And I was right...nobody really misses the old me, not even me. It was his time, and I had to let him go. So, I did, and I've never looked back since. The cool thing about life is the stuff he did not like about it; that it is a struggle, and forever changing, morphing into new combinations, and it is as exciting as exciting can be, if only you direct your attention to different points of observation, taking control of the little you can, and being grateful for even the tiniest experiences that is a miracle that you even have the opportunity to experience it in the framework you do. Even the worst, most horrible atrocities in your life can be viewed as being original experiences that many cannot share, and if you can find it within yourself to be thankful for it all, the good, bad, and (formerly) boring(and that is just a judgement rather than what it truly is) you begin seeing the real beauty in everything, which you are a part of, and you start to feel the newness and excitement in every waking moment. The former desire to leave such wonder seems odd, foreign and misplaced. It would be like going through all the trouble to plan a trip to go to Disneyland, telling yourself before and during the trip that it is gonna suck, then, once there, without even exploring, you turn around and go home, without even checking out any of the rides, satisfied that it lived up to the expectation that you had about it, giving you the right to badmouth it, since you knew that it would not be fun, and damn it all if you were going to be proved wrong. There are so many amazing things to explore and experience here in this world, that even one full lifetime does not seem like long enough to check out the smallest things thoroughly, so why cut the trip short? Just to prove that if you think it is messed up,then it will be? That is even more pointless than the seemingly pointlessness of living, and shows the lack of growth and knowledge required to make such a immense and unchangeable decision in the first place. Who cares if anyone remembers you or not, in the long hallway of time. Remembrance does nothing for you when you are dead and gone. No, it is the RIGHT NOW that matters most, whether spent with many, or alone, it is really ALL YOU HAVE, hence it is everything, and why trade in everything for nothing? Especially when you know you only get to have everything for such a short time, anyway, without assisting and expediting the matter. Lose the fear of it, be thankful for all that you have (in fact, list one thing each day that you are thankful for. Everyone can come up with at least one thing. Try it for a month, and you'll be amazed at how different your world becomes when taking this attitude. Seriously, at least try it for a month before attempting anything you may regret. It cannot hurt, and you can still always carry on, afterward, if you wish, but you owe it to yourself to at least see if there is something to this experience, after all, right?). I've come to realize what a grave mistake I almost made thirty some odd years ago, and all the experiences that have shaped me into someone who is not afraid of dying, and not afraid of living either. Because fear is what it is, when it comes down to it, and I am not going to let these unfounded fears push me around, and leave like a coward. No, when I go now, be it many years from now, or moments after I finish writing this, I will have experienced something that only I could experience in this way, at this time, and I'll be damned if I'm not going to get my money's worth every moment until that inevitable time. Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to write this, as you were the impetus that made me affirm again just how cool this all really is. It is so effin amazing, we should be blown away by what we take for granted, all the time. Thanks again, and seriously consider my words, please. It is no skin off my back, if you do decide to kill yourself, as I don't even know you, but it would have some severe effect on your future and the ability to experience it.
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paramore - hate to see your heart break
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Life, you only get one. Think about going 10 years into the future; a family, a career, just a life waiting to be lived. Life is precious and I sure hope you intend to keep yours because having a life taken away from you is awful with no sign or warning and if a death caused by yourself and could be prevented, then PREVENT it....live your life and think about who would be losing out if you left this world; dead, alive, or waiting to be born.
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People beyond your family would always remember you & be sad when they thought about you, & how you died so young by taking your own life. Trust me, there are people you might not even think of or notice who care about you.
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I think its that moment were you realize that if you died the world wouldn't end. No one would care probably, except your family. For me, four, maybe five people. It really wouldn't matter if I died.
Then its the moment when you realize you really don't want to exist anymore. Because every day is filled with heavy sadness, and you don't really enjoy or understand anything. You're with people, but you're alone.
The first time I tried to kill myself, popping those white pills in my mouth one by one, I was amazed that the most alive I'd felt in months was in trying to die. The second time, I got sadder in hospital when I saw the kind nurse with scars on her arms, gotten the same way I'd gotten mine.
I just feel like its time to go.