Remember the toothache!

I was reading some more on Buddhism today and I came across a passage that has given me some thought. The author talks about not just suffering and identifying with your suffering but he also speaks of remembering your suffering. He says that when we have a toothache we think of how good it feels to not have a toothache. But once the toothache is gone we no longer think of how much better it now is to not have the ache. We simply put it behind us and forget about the pain.

So I was dwelling on this when I started to think about where I am now compared to where I have been in the past. I remember what it was like when I was suicidal, when the darkest of days were looming in front of me. When I felt like all had abandoned me and I deserved nothing, not even the air I breathe. I thought of all the difficult times I have faced in the past and those that I face now. Without a doubt, as bad as things can be now, they are better than they once were. In fact anything short of being suicidal again, which hasn't happened in over 3 months now, is better. So I have spent the morning contemplating and comparing myself now to when things were the worst, such as the day I tried to kill myself. It helps me. I feel a bit more empowered to take control of my life. I have been at the edge and I have stepped off. I have revisited the edge several times and probably will again. But right now I am not there and understanding that "lack" of suffering is putting me in a better place. I can feel how much stronger I am now. I am not deluding myself into thinking that this feeling will last forever but right now it is there and it is mine. I plan to enjoy this for as long as I can. Until my demons recognize it and pull it away from me, it is mine.

The image at the top of the page I chose for a reason. It is an icon of my life, of where I see myself right now. The passage is dark and dirty, there is no feeling of warmth or comfort. But where there was nothing I now see a light at the end. How far I have to go to reach that I do not know. I may only attain it on the day that I pass from here to the next or it may come to me next week. But I have been diagnosed, finally, and I am on medication. I have someone in my life I can talk to about most things and a blog for what I cannot say. Either way it is not bottled inside of me. And that is better than where I once was.

A Virgin

So there I was driving to work down a rather busy highway. Life was not well. Among many things I had been trying to build a relationship with my father. Even through the years of abuse and neglect I still felt I needed something from him, some kind of approval. So after moving cross country to be near him and several months of trying to get reacquainted, things were not happening. Many of our "planned" visits resulted in my finding him in a bar and his asking me what the hell I was doing there. His girlfriends always took first priority and what was worse is that the girl's kids would become his for the time being. That ass would dote on them like they were the greatest thing ever.

Add in another failed relationship, this time with a girl I was truly in love with. Yet again my inability to talk about myself, my messed up brain and my closed off feelings screwed things up. Before you think these are minor things you must understand all the other bull that was piled on top of this. Anyone who has actually been through a severe depression could tell you how bad things can be.

So in general life sucked. I hated work, I hated home and most important I hated myself. I was (am) such a loser. No one liked me. No one cared about me. And I was top of both lists.

I realized life held nothing for me and I wanted no more of it. A lifetime of pain and hate and suffering came crashing down on me. I had enough.

I looked up to see a red light and a semi truck with trailer pulling into the road. I was about a half mile away and the pedal was all the way down. I wanted out right now. This was it. Any other option would take too long. At about 85 mph I hit the side of the trailer head on. Looking back it may have been more effective had I thought to take my seat belt off. Later I awoke to a fireman cutting the side of my car off. I passed out. Then I awoke to an EMT in a helicopter asking my name. A brief answer and I passed out. Later I finally awoke for good, strapped to a backboard, lying on a gurney. I could feel no pain. Everything moved like it should, where it could. No pain.

I later found out that my sister had been called and told to come down with my father. Come and say goodbye they said. We don't expect to see him make it through the night. I woke up at one point to see my father standing over me, a look of disappointment on his face. I bawled like a baby. I still don't know why. But I shook I was crying so hard.

Several weeks later I was released in a wheelchair. Stayed in the wheelchair for almost three months. Another month or so on crutches. I remember doing rehab and I had to do curls with a can of soup. First try I did three.

I came away from it all with a sense of purpose. My father was barely around as I healed. I no longer cared. I faced death and was still around. I gave it all up and was still here. I was going to find a reason to move on. I realized all my pain and suffering truly came from my parents. Because of my parents I almost took my own life. F*ck them! My life was finally mine. It would be better that theirs ever was. And in the end I would be the only one responsible for all of it.

Well, life doesn't go to plan, now does it.

Reflecting on suicide

Fact is I never told anyone about my attempt at suicide. Everyone believes it to be an accident. I guess I do not want the attention it would bring, or the pity. It was my choice at the time and I have managed to come away from it with something. A sort of inner peace. I reflect on it from time to time, it helps me in my travels. I do not think I will share it, ever, except to ponder on it here. Something about the anonymity of blogging that lets me speak yet feel like I am completely protected. A private journal of sorts, except that people can read it. I guess my reason for that is that someone may be able to take something from this someday. That it may help someone in their own struggles be it past or present....