Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Suicide note

I've been wading through some of my old journal entries to see how and where I was a year ago, two years ago... all that crap.

I know I shouldn't be doing this because it triggers me. But I can't help it. It's like a moth heading towards light, not caring it will kill/blind itself. I am morbidly drawn to it in a similar way. This was a letter I wrote over a year ago. November 11th, 2003. I didn't die that day either.

Dear __anyone who gives a shit______,
It’s hard to put it all into one letter, to construct one piece of work that will reflect everything that I feel right at this moment.

What I am about to do is a long time coming. It is the final act of a play that has gone on for far too long. It’s not about one thing. It’s not about anyone I know, or not know. It’s not about any one event. There is no reason for it, and I cannot explain it, except to say that that’s just how things have come to be. So don't go pointing the finger on this, or that, or anyone. Just learn to accept it, the way I never could.

Sometimes people go for a walk without a destination in mind. They end up somewhere without ever meaning to. There’s no reason or explanation for that. It’s just how things come to be.

I’ve been so sad, so disillusioned, so disappointed. I want so much more than this even though I know in my heart that that cannot be possible for me. Learning to accept this way of life just doesn’t cut it. It’s not that I can’t live like this. I just don’t want to anymore.

I’ve made my share of mistakes, true, but I tried to redeem myself.

I'm only human.

I was only human.

I’ve tried to be a good person but somehow misguidedly end up being selfish and cruel. I never meant to hurt anyone. I never set out to hurt anyone intentionally. Sometimes things simply get beyond me and the shit hits the fan. I’m so, so sorry for all that.

I can only hope to be forgiven because I could never forgive myself.

Nov 11, 2003


The Mass Defective said...

I do that as well, go back thru all my old journals. For me it's not too triggering, but more of a journey back in time to view things from what seems like another person's perspective, because I don't remember most of it. Though when I'm done reading, it is painfully obviously and beyond pathetic that while I've been through so much over the years, I'm in the exact same position I always was. Never seem to make a step forward at all. Hope you're at least making some progress.

Yuki said...

Dear Polar Bear,

I have to write something in response to this blog. It was brave of you to share this note you wrote with everyone. It must have been a very low time in your life. I'm glad that you didn't die. It has been a comfort to read your blogs because you write so poetically and express so clearly the thoughts and feelings, I think many of us BPD people go through. You have been a comfort to me and I'm so glad that you're here. You have a gift and you offer it to the world, each time you write and each time you breath! You are a precious gift that I'm glad to know. Keep on, keeping on.