Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Sensing the Ending

So I'm fresh out of the hospital again.  Just an overnight stay this time to make sure I got my thinking right and could "contract for safety" as they say these days.  I'm in charge of my life, after all.  Especially when it comes to thoughts about ending it.

I don't know why I was thinking about killing myself, exactly.  But I was.  Can't deny that.  I was thinking about it in great detail, wondering about who would be the first to find me, and what they would find.  What materials I would use and how I would go about it.  How I could account for contingencies, like if I got halfway into it and changed my mind, how I could be sure that what I was doing was right.  Like if I started to struggle to save my own life, could I anticipate such a struggle so that said struggle could be denied, unsuccessful?

This is not easy stuff to talk about.  But it's not fun to think about either.  This I know.  I'm not recounting this now for sympathy or attention.  I'm trying to understand it, too.

So I thought about suffocating myself with a plastic bag and duct tape.  I'd get a couple plastic bags and wrap the duct tape around my neck nice and tight.  Then I'd wrap my hands up in duct tape so that I couldn't claw at the plastic when I was struggling for air.  Not sure I would have been successful, as it's hard to wrap your own hands up, but I did try to envision how I could do it successfully.  This, of course, is dangerous.  Getting this far into a suicide scenario can't be a good thing, unless you're really meaning to end your life.

I was confused.  I think I believed that I was slipping into a situation that would land me back in the hospital and on various medications that would disrupt me and be another great struggle for me.  This didn't happen, and for that I'm thankful.  I knew that I didn't want to go through that again.  I still know that I don't want to have to fight for my very sanity like that again.  But that's what we do, every day of our life: fight for what we believe in.  Fight for what is right.  Fight for those that we love.

There's something about death that intrigues me.  I am in awe of it.  How does it work?  How is life here one moment and not the next?  Where does it go?

I will always wonder at these questions.  Maybe someday I will know, but I don't need to kill myself just to try and find out.

I know that I have received very good care and help during this latest crisis.  Thank you all that have assisted and counseled me.  I have a great group of support.  I am blessed and loved, it is clear.  I hope I can always draw upon this knowledge and love to get me through the tough times.


Gerri said...

You are loved, no doubt about it. I can't imagine life without you.

Gerri said...

You are loved, no doubt about it. I can't imagine life without you.

Deb said...

Ditto what Mom said twice. It would be devastating, and this world would be a much lonelier and emptier place without you. I love you and need you in my life, Big Brudder.

Suzy said...

Yes, you are loved and we don't want to find out what the world is like without you. Glad you weathered this storm.

Amy Kolb Tucker said...

I think that many of us are curious about death. Some of my strangest (and most intriguing) musings are quite existential. I will just find myself struck by something I sense or experience -- sometimes though, just a random fleeting thought. Then, THOSE questions. What the hell is it all anyway? Is there a higher power or not? Is there an existence beyond this now or not? What is that existence like -- if indeed it exists at all ... I kind of like to play with those thoughts sometimes.

Ultimately, I am brought back to the realization that I AM here now and, while I do admit to having some sense of intelligent design in the whole matter (at the very least), the 'befores' and the 'afters' just don't matter. I am here NOW and I want to experience all of the now. I don't really want to spend so much energy dwelling on yesterdays or tomorrows or what ifs or what mights.

I don't know how much of that really made sense, but I guess I'm trying to say that, perhaps, we all (whether we have a specific identified diagnosis or not) can get mired in dwelling on things beyond the moment.

I am just VERY VERY glad that you are exploring this episode so openly. That just seems SUPER healthy to me.

LOVE YOU! Love your view of the world....


mary kolb gilbert said...

Amy.... I love what you said ... we ARE here NOW and should live this now to the fullest and best we can!!!
Michael ... I'm beyond releved, grateful, etc & etc that you reached out for help ... this world... our world... is absolutely better with you in it!!!
I (along with sooo many more people!!) love you!!!!

(t)om said...

Well, since you were being open and honest, please allow the same of me... Reading this post was hard for me. The realization that I was very close to having lost you, Michael, was, well, incredibly painful. It made me feel helpless. It made me feel outrage. It made me feel sorrow. It made me feel cheated. It still does.

I had another morning of oral surgery last week. You'd think I'd be used to this after all these sessions, but I'm not. It always starts with those horrible shots. The surgeon always warns me before sticking the needle into my gums or roof of my mouth, but it doesn't help. In fact, I tense up, wince, eyes water, and begin to feel the sharp pain BEFORE he even does a thing. I guess that's how your post made me feel.

Keep writing, my friend. And keep being honest. My teeth will get better. Life without you, however, won't.

Suzy said...

Well put Tom - I can't agree more.