It's dark now when I awaken at dawn. The days are compacting themselves within. The sky was salmon-tinged and streaked with orange when I drove to work. Like autumn, sunrise is magical. Nature is one talented artist with an amazing palette.
The last week has been tough, and hence the silence of my withdrawal. I went through my journals from when I lived in Welllington around 2000-2003. V and I had started talking about that period of my life the week before, and I wanted to find out more about the details. And found out more I did.
The stats were staggering. In the first 3 months, I had gotten into trouble 7 times, 3 of which were major overdoses which landed me in Intensive Care. There was a period of 2 months where I'd taken 4 overdoses. Which also landed me in ICU.
There were other hidden details I'd forgotten. But even though some things are best left buried deep in memory, having to look at what I had gone through and how bad I felt back then, forced me to have a more compassionate view of myself. As V put it a few weeks ago and made me say it out loud, "I did the best I could at the time". I did the best I could and I didn't know any better.
And despite all that, I am still alive. V asked me if I saw the tenacity I had within me. Yes, of course I did. Those journals were letters to "Future me". And scattered throughout the entries over time were constant reminders - "I can do this". So yes, I knew there was a part of me that fought to live, battled for the right to live just one more day. It would be my saving grace. It would also be my downfall in my numerous unsuccessful suicide attempts.
We had to wrap things up before we could discuss at length the incident which led to my being fired from my job, but I said I still have anger issues about that and it would be hard talking about it.
Overall, I think V was pleased I'd gone as far as I did in "exposing" myself to a rather "traumatic" period of my life. Avoidance has always been more of my style. Even a few weeks ago, I'd argued about the point of this whole "history taking" exercise. But in a way, it is like watching a train wreck. It is a sort of morbid curiousity. I can't help gawking at the "Past me", such a spectacular disaster on two legs. But doing this raises so many negative emotions, it stirs up too much grit from the murky depths of memory - things better left at the bottom of the memory well.
So I've been letting things settle down. I'm trying not to think too much. After my session with V on Tuesday which I revealed so much of myself, I've closed myself down once more. I'm coping (as usual) by running. With the weather cooling down, it's been much easier to run. Just yesterday I ran through a carpet of golden yellow leaves on the ground. The colours of the trees are simply bursting with a richness you will never see for most part of the year.
V is away next week so I'm pacing myself. Already, it feels as though I have lost all connection with her. Losing strength, losing courage. It'll be a long week.