Not long ago I wrote my letter saying goodbye to those who I knew loved me. It was my decision that I no longer wanted to exist in the world. It wasn’t the first time I had made that choice. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to experience joy and happiness. I wanted to. But I didn’t see any hope of attaining even a small measure of that. All I saw and all I felt was pain. Pain from the words and actions of people some of those people who I also thought loved me. At least those were the words on their lips. One of those people was a woman who stood and took a vow before God with me but abandoned and betrayed me. The pain seemed insurmountable. I was drowning in it and I didn’t want to fight for life.
Writing my good bye letter was one of the hardest things I ever did. I shed many tears because I was grieving the loss of myself. In some odd way it felt satisfying. I’ll never forget the feeling of being so ready to die. The woman I was married to took our only car. I borrowed a car from my spiritual parents. I knew that if I had their only car they could not race to me or try to save me. After I completed writing that letter they called me and insisted I come and pick them up. They would not hang up the phone until I arrived at their home. Then they made me come with them back to my home so I could get some belongings so that I could stay with them. I promised them that they could go home and I would be okay. They refused. I was lying by what their standard of “okay” meant. They came into the house with me when we returned and it was as if they were searching for something. In the bathroom they found the long straight edged knife I planned to use. They also found my folded letter on my nightstand. Tomorrow you will call the Doctor and tell him about everything we saw. I knew what would happen next and it did. I was hospitalized. I thought I could act well and go home but I simply didn’t have it in me anymore. I agreed to sign my rights over to the hospital. I couldn’t fake it. I just wanted to not feel anymore. I was numb. I was discharged after a month long stay. Some nights I cried. Some nights I thought of ways I could hurt myself. I knew why everyone else should fight to live but I didn’t have a reason for myself.
Macy Gray lyrics would play in my head. It was the song I listened to on repeat while I wrote my letter. The song is titled “the letter”. In it, it says: “So long everybody, Mama, don’t be sad for me. Life was a heartache and now I am finally free. I don’t know where I’m headed hope I see you someday soon. So long everybody I have gone beyond the moon.” I told myself when I stop playing those words in my head and the music stops that means that perhaps I am getting better. One night my roommate asked me do you still hear the song? I said actually I don’t hear it anymore.
Tonight is the first night in a long time I’ve heard that song in my head and it’s only because I chose to recall it. I actually had some of the lyrics wrong and had to look them up – I shouldn’t have. Tears are streaming now. The crying feels so good.
I write this for me but I also write this for you. I want us to live. We deserve to fight for life. Not just any life but the best life ever. What I know now is that it doesn’t mean to have the most money or highest title. It means a life filled with purpose and meaning. And do you know who has to be the one to determine what’s purposeful and what’s valuable? You. If you’re not the one choosing then that means someone else is and your joy will be fleeting and short lived. It’s been a few days since I’ve blogged and that tells me something is going on internally. I don’t know what it is. But it’s a signal that something’s happening, I need to be doing this just about everyday. It means my life. I am actually writing for my life and hopefully yours.
I may never be completely free of the desire to end my life. Some days are much better than others. Some days the safest thing for me to do is sit still. In the hospital one therapist said if you don’t feel like you can get out of bed then just sit on the floor. I live by those words. It changes your prospective and not to mention your level of comfort.
The title of this post represents not giving up but instead I wrote this as a vow to fight. It’s time for me to say goodbye to saying goodbye. I will grieve this loss. But saying goodbye to life is a belief that no longer serves me. I promise you it doesn’t serve you either. I may have to talk about this some more because it is such a part of me that it is as if I am amputating a part of my body. I am no longer giving myself an out. I am no longer accepting that ending my life is an option. I want you to do the same. Will you? You may not believe it but you deserve to have the best life ever. It is not without work it is not without bad days and dark moments. They are just that moments and days. That is all they are. We have survived so much worse.
It is late on the east coast. Just about 11pm and I haven’t taken my night meds – no shame in my game. Yep I have day meds and night meds. They’re prescriptions just to clarify.
For this moment I bid you a good night and wish you peace and wellness.
Until next time. And should you need to chat I will likely be asleep in a little while but if you can hold on until tomorrow I’ll be around. If you don’t think you can hold on another moment please dial 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. Don’t let pride get in the way of you getting well and remaining safe.