Wednesday, January 24, 2007

The allure of suicide . . .

Wow, that sounds dark now doesn't it? Reality is so much darker. Surviving suicide is considered a trauma, and a cause for P.T.S.D. So wonderful now you know? I've already got enough "primary" causes for the P.T.S.D. I've been diagnosed with, now another?

Well not now, this has been going on for awhile. Periodically, when I have bad days, that's where my mind runs. Taking your own life is of course a one time solution to all the problems in life you know. That's it, done, over, finis! Every single problem you have is folded up and stuffed in the box they bury you in and you never have to worry about it again.

Well that's what one believes when one takes their own life. In 1961 that is exactly what I believed, and was certain what would become of me. Nothing more, ever, my problems solved, my pain gone, and me with it. As I sat there in a warm tub of purple liquid, my consciousness slipping from me, I was, for the first time in years at peace and free of my pain. I sat there, the blood gushing from the deep cuts in my thigh, KNOWING it was finally over.

Sure I'd be missed, people I knew and loved would be hurt, pissed even. They'd adjust, and it was my life, not theirs to live or die. I was in so much pain, so depressed, and in such bad shape cutting open my thighs didn't even hurt. I felt giddy, even slightly euphoric, as the blood gushed from my wounds and turned the blue water purple. Finally, relief, freedom, never to be bothered again, all my problems solved.

I'd spent the last of my money on a nice bottle of French red wine and some blue food coloring. Drawn a nice bath, lit a bunch of candles, opened the red wine to breath, put Jacques Briell's "La Moribond" on the phonograph, poured the food coloring into the tub, then a glass of wine and slid into the water. I drank a bit of wine, actually a bunch of it, and let the mellow warmth enfold me in it's loving embrace. I was practicing a form of meditation known today as mindfulness, surrendering completely to what I was feeling at that moment, putting for a moment as much distance between me and my pain as possible.

God's it felt great. I had a purpose, a goal, a direction and I knew in a few short moments my pain would be gone and I'd be free. I was taking, what I thought was a positive step forward, and finally regaining some control of my life. Yeah, those last few moments of peace, of what I thought was clarity, of control was more intoxicating than the wine. Jacques started singing again and this time I savored the words, the feeling, the power in his voice and lyrics. I'd set the phonograph to just keep playing it over and over again.

I still remember how it felt, like it happened yesterday, and in some ways it did. I slid the knife between my legs, took a deep breath and pulled. The physical pain of the blade cutting deep felt GREAT!!! I was on my way, I'd done it, and even if I didn't manage to make the second cut I knew I had moments to live. It felt so good though, waves of sensation that to my addled brain felt WONDERFUL made me want to get the other leg done. Knowing I didn't have much time I turned the knife around and pulled again.

The second time felt even better than the first and I surrendered to the waves of feeling, the pure, almost blissful, physical sensation. Because I'd given this careful thought, and planning, my consciousness started to fade before the "cold" associated with blood loss hit me. Though in retrospect, the cold probably would have felt good too, so I don't know how much it would have mattered.

Loss of life came fast, amazingly fast, well at least I think it did. I passed out from blood loss, and probably quickly died thereafter. What happened next, was the stuff out of movies, or TV. I lost consciousness, and then woke with a start, very disappointed to find myself right were I left off in a tub full of water and my own blood. They phonograph was still playing, the candles burning and while I knew I should be cold, I wasn't.

I then decided that I should get up and start over, I was actually terribly disappointed that I wasn't dead, or so I thought. When I went to get up, there was no sloshing of the water and as I got out of the tub I looked back and saw myself lying there. That was when it hit me, I was dead, I'd actually succeeded in taking my own life. Yeah the pain was gone, sort of, well no, not really.

I was still terribly sad and then some, the reality of what I'd done then started to sink in, the loss. People who did not yet know I was gone, but would be crushed, my sister Lil high at the top of the list. She was a bit younger than I was, and I'd promised I wasn't going to go away on her, and failed her too. That's when the anger hit me full on, all the anger I couldn't manage in life, my rage was loose and the only thing I could do was feel it.

I had time to think, I was actually stuck in there for a while until they came looking for the rent I couldn't pay them, and didn't answer the door. It wasn't till much later I figured out that I could pass through solid matter as easily through air. Honestly it just isn't something you think of when you're dead. You could easily say I had other things on my mind and in my heart, plus the horrible guilt on top of it all.

I'd been raised a good little catholic girl, but never once bought into it, any of it. Which is exactly what got me in so much trouble in the first place. I was supposed to be a "good girl" and marry in my station and grow up to be just like my Mom. My father had already "promised me" to one of the rich sons in town, and I was just expected to go along with it. I was expected to marry, bear his children and make a good society wife. I wasn't just raised as a "good girl" I was groomed to be just like my Mom, and while I loved (still do) her, I wanted a chance for other things in my life.

That was the problem, what lead me to so drastic a step, taking my own life like that?

(End of Part One . . .)

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Four Funerals and a beheading.

So in the smallish town I live in there was recently a horrific traffic accident caused, by of all things, three wild teenage males speeding in reckless fashion right after school. This happened less than a mile from the school, and took the life of a complete innocent in the process. The car the teens were in slammed into a school operated minivan, taking the life of the driver of that minivan at the same time.

All four funerals were held today and for all practical purposes the entire student body of the school went funeral hoping. No sooner than one would finish and the other would start. Much talk was head on the local news about the event, and I know it made it into the New York metro stations, on a national level I wouldn't be surprised is it received the same sensationalistic coverage. Great amounts of news, great detail, somber shots of mourners wearing black with yellow ties of ribbons. How sad everyone was, their friends were dead, how terrible the loss of the three young lives, so on and so fourth. The driver of the minivan? What about her? Did they mourn her loss? The tragic end to a life simply because three young males were being idiots?

Hold on here a moment. Yes, I'm sad that FOUR people died so tragic a death. I'm also livid that the teens were so reckless, and stupid, turning several tons of metal, glass, plastic and fabric into a weapon of mass destruction. Four lives ended in an instant, countless others touched, even traumatized, like the drive of the car in front of the minivan who narrowly missed being hit. The driver of this car is a friend and co-worker of someone I met, and based on what was said, this person was seriously traumatized. Now we are up to FIVE people.

Then we have the family's of all FIVE people I personally can count. FIVE families damaged or destroyed. Let's say on the conservative side there are three people per family, now that's another fifteen other people, plus the original five, for a grand total of TWENTY lives irrevocably changed. There were students on the minivan, I don't know how many, their families, and so forth. The total keeps going up.

Sorry, but that is mass destruction. Caused by a car, used as a weapon, even if in terms of someone being an idiot and driving too fast in a reckless manner. A high school student, driving a car? With two other teens? Me thinks the driving age, and requirements for a license are way, way too lenient. How about the idiot parents, mourning the loss of their children, the same ones they allowed use of the car in the first place?

I mean really! Think about it. Those who should be breading and raising children in a responsible fashion are choosing not to, everyone else however . . . I don't care about your precious schedule, and how much easier it is FOR YOUR BUSY life if the kids have a car. They are too young to appreciate the responsibility most of the time, too wild and hormone fueled to understand what it means. So they die, they kill people, everyone is sad, and they talk for hours about how good these kids were, and how much is lost cutting their young lives short.

Grow up! These children are murders. They took a lives. If they'd lived they'd be facing jail . . . Since they're dead we put them up on pillars and talk about how good they are???

Just my two cents . . .

So to add icing to the cake, my sister calls yesterday because on this day of funerals and such, there was a horrible murder in the same town. She called to make sure I was okay. Yeah, just staying out of trouble I said. Later as I was thinking about the day it came to me;

Four funerals and a beheading!

What's that saying? If it bleeds it leads?

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Oh so very, very Shiny!

Okay, I'll be honest here. Took my friends a bit of work to convince me to watch "Firefly" in the first place. Now that I finally have, I'm so hooked. Regrettably like all other serialized anythings I've ever really enjoyed they canceled it. Before I even knew it existed it. You see this, they canceled it well ahead of schedule because they knew I'd like it, love it even.

Damn Alliance PIGS!

I just spent the last three or so days watching the DVDs, and now I eagerly await the chance to watch the movie "Serenity" as it is the last of the show around.

Good bye Captain Tightpants, Zoe, Wash, Inara, Shepard Book, Simon and River Tam, Jayne, Kaylee and of course Serenity herself. Amazing and gifted cast, wonderful writing, award winning special effects, though to be honest I'm not a special effects whore. Well truth be told I'm not, through no fault of my own, any kind of whore, but given the opportunity I'd so totally be a "Companion." The show, wow, I simply cannot do it justice in anything I say here.

But I can try, and hope come close. I've been a Star Trek fan since the pilot aired a lifetime ago. Serious Trek fan! So serious I'm writing this on my PADD write now. Watched every episode bunches of times, can quote dialog from some of the more memorable episodes, and I admit to being a huge fan. Now however it is just so 24th century! Seriously, I still love it, but it stands with some other amazing and memorable company like;

Stargate SG1 ("Quote dialog you say?" "That would be a cliche and you know, well YOU know how I feel about those!") [Now canceled with a handful of episodes to go to finish the tenth season out]

Stargate Atlantis (Which I so thought was going to fail, and now, now I'm hooked on that too!)

Battlestar Galactica (The new one, which I love so much more than the original, and I swore that could NEVER happen)

Farscape (They canceled THAT too!!!)

and now;

Firefly. If you have not seen it, oh do yourself a favor and see it. Right now! But down the cortex connection, goto your local video store and rent it right now! Go! Hey! You there, on the other side of the screen, forget reading this, go get Firefly!