And, So, It Begins
I wasn't going to say anything. Nothing at all. I may yet remove this post all together, but what is writing to me, if not cathartic?
Sunday night one of my closest friends called me (ExOfNote). He had decided that he wanted to learn to fly — without the benefit of a parachute.
Fortunately, the Lord really does answer prayers, and he's still with us. Us. I should say 'them'. He's still with his family. He's shoved me away, shut me out. He wants nothing to do with me. I assume it's shame, embarrassment, quite possibly anger. I allow him these feelings, at least he's feeling.
I'm feeling, too. I feel that the next time I see him I'm going to throttle him for the anguish he caused me. I feel that I'll kiss him for still being alive. But, mostly, I feel I will forever be tortured by the terror I heard in my own voice as I screamed his name into the void that was, after he hung up on me.
I have replayed the most frightening two hours of my life in a continuous loop for the past three days. I try to fill my mind with work, with movies, with meaningless drivel. But it comes to me in my sleep, stealing from me those moments that should be a reprieve.
Mumsy suggested a suicide support group, but they all want the person to be dead. I haven't found a group that caters to the survivors of attempts. I guess they assume you'll be seeking comfort with your loved one. I need to tell someone, and I guess you're all it. Now, I need human contact, and I haven't been able to get it. I'm not close enough with anyone here to get that physical comfort I so desperately need.
As I think about seeking spiritual comfort I'm reminded of a feeling I had, not long ago. I had this persistent feeling of impending sorrow. Not anguish, not anger, but sorrow. I knew something was going to happen that would cause me deep sorrow. Could this be it? I'm not sure, but this torture sure doesn't feel like sorrow. Is there something more to come? I don't know if I could handle the additional emotional strain right now.
The only thing I know for sure is this: I'm in a place I never imagined being, a place where I don't want to be, a place where no one should ever have to be; and I don't know where to go from here.
And, so, it begins: the healing, that will never be complete.
Sunday night one of my closest friends called me (ExOfNote). He had decided that he wanted to learn to fly — without the benefit of a parachute.
Fortunately, the Lord really does answer prayers, and he's still with us. Us. I should say 'them'. He's still with his family. He's shoved me away, shut me out. He wants nothing to do with me. I assume it's shame, embarrassment, quite possibly anger. I allow him these feelings, at least he's feeling.
I'm feeling, too. I feel that the next time I see him I'm going to throttle him for the anguish he caused me. I feel that I'll kiss him for still being alive. But, mostly, I feel I will forever be tortured by the terror I heard in my own voice as I screamed his name into the void that was, after he hung up on me.
I have replayed the most frightening two hours of my life in a continuous loop for the past three days. I try to fill my mind with work, with movies, with meaningless drivel. But it comes to me in my sleep, stealing from me those moments that should be a reprieve.
Mumsy suggested a suicide support group, but they all want the person to be dead. I haven't found a group that caters to the survivors of attempts. I guess they assume you'll be seeking comfort with your loved one. I need to tell someone, and I guess you're all it. Now, I need human contact, and I haven't been able to get it. I'm not close enough with anyone here to get that physical comfort I so desperately need.
As I think about seeking spiritual comfort I'm reminded of a feeling I had, not long ago. I had this persistent feeling of impending sorrow. Not anguish, not anger, but sorrow. I knew something was going to happen that would cause me deep sorrow. Could this be it? I'm not sure, but this torture sure doesn't feel like sorrow. Is there something more to come? I don't know if I could handle the additional emotional strain right now.
The only thing I know for sure is this: I'm in a place I never imagined being, a place where I don't want to be, a place where no one should ever have to be; and I don't know where to go from here.
And, so, it begins: the healing, that will never be complete.
posted by granola girl at 10:06 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home