"Thinking about suicide is a potent consolation: it helps us to get through many a bad night"
- Friedrich Nietzsche
Last week was a tough week. The rejection was hard to take. I realised how fragile everything is. Everything I’ve tried to build shattered so easily. There is no permanence, no guarantee. That’s a fact of life I struggle to comprehend. It’s simply difficult to accept.
People could make decisions that affect our whole lives. People could make choices that turn our entire world upside down. How does that make sense? That to a large extent, our lives are made or destroyed by somebody else.
If I practiced my DBT skills, I could say that things don’t happen to us so much as things just happen – it’s how we react to the situation that affects us negatively or positively. Last week I didn’t react very well at all. In fact I wanted to simply walk away from it all. It was too hard to get myself right back on the horse. The bruises from every time I fell just seemed too much to bear. It didn’t seem worth the fight when you’re fighting a losing battle. Who wants to lose all the time? The game just didn’t seem fair.
Depression set in, I think. I allowed myself to feel sorry for myself. I took a good look at the big picture and realised how little life appealed to me. I looked at how alone I have been all my life, and how alone I will continue to be (probably) for the rest of my life. So do I want a companion? The answer is NO. I don’t even believe that will bring me joy. I don’t believe anything will ever bring me joy. That this life will be the same grey world that straddles life and death. And that the end and relief will only come in death.
I’m not suicidal anymore though. I talked to V at the end of last week and she persuaded me to try some of my DBT skills. If nothing else, at least her strong belief that she can help me build a life worth living, is something I can cling onto like a life preserver in this sea of misery. I’m not sure if I completely believe her sometimes. But I know I want to. Badly. And maybe that wanting to is enough for now…. I don’t know.
I had a dream, though, on Friday night. I dreamt I went through with my suicide plan. I walked down this beach and into the surf, until the water swallowed me up. It felt so real, I woke up crying. I woke up crying because I didn’t want to die, but I also knew that there was no solution to this. That to get that peace of mind I strive so hard for, death was the only way.
Surely it’s not wrong to want to have some peace of mind? A moment, or a day, or a week when everything isn’t such a struggle, when the world isn’t tinted with this greyness, when the warmth of the sun can be felt on my skin, instead of this numbness, this feeling of deadness….