mine to decide

  September 16th, 2010 by tish

I am facing the fact That death by suicide is possibly going to be the way I leave this world. It’s not a snap  decision and doesn’t even feel like a choice. Just from an exhaustion in every level of my being. Was it the build up of traumas physical and emotional over the last few years in particular? Or was the 13 year old me all those years ago wise when she thought she would only make it to her 30’s before getting tired. Is this a phase or is this the end ?My physical pain from fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue and hellish depression and anxiety is nudging me all the time away from the world. Add in brain damage from a vaccine and severe protracted withdrawals from psychiatric meds and it leaves me wondering if I’ve done my time. Oh and the fact I’ve become hypersensitive to all medication.

But theres a scared little child in me with her heels dug in refusing to leave. Wanting the good times back. I did that a lot as a child not wanting to go home from visits and parties and the like. But the joy is gone. The peace is gone. The hope is gone. What there is is torture. Nightmares,seizures, continual pain, continual fear, nausea and grief for who I was and all I haven’t done at 37. What has stopped me dying  is fear. My health has been so poor and deteriorating in the last 4 years that I think that it’s somehow going to live on that I’ll bring it with me.My good old catholic upbringing saying this being my cross to bear. In the beginning when I got sick and the pain would come I tried the suffering martyr role but its no fun 4 years on.When I ended up needing a wheelchair I thought this could be fun but it loses its novelty value. Years ago a friend used to call me the’female peter pan’ so maybe my illnesses have been too much reality and  too much growing up all at once.Illness has made me regress and it’s hard to kill yourself when you feel like a child.Plus the old childish belief in a punishing god is back. I thought I’d left that behind years ago.I was a good girl at school. Good girls don’t kill themseves right?! But little by little my spirit is dying under all this pain which is a form of death. Theres alot to be said for dying suddenly and not lingering. I read an article recently that said the word suicide meaning ‘killing of self’ should be called penacide or ‘the killing of pain’.

It is amazing the stuff people say to you. I’ve been told that I’ll go into a void if I kill myself. Unfortunately this was from a man who I really respect and is very intuitive so this worries me. Or another friend and mentor who said I would bring my problems with me. Or my former therapist who felt that if I was so afraid That I just wasn’t ready. I think it indicates I have always looked to other people for validation. So maybe this is the time I make my own mind up. Leaving behind the people I love is hard even though they are prewarned. Not wanting to leave them questioning themselves.  And of course I’ m vain and proud to the end. Who will be at the funeral and what will be said? Will they think I gave up? Will I be someone never spoken of again without awkward silences?Will they remember the old me. I dreamt the other night I wheeled my coffin into our local church and The priest said you can’t park that here! So I had to move it.

I feel vulnerable having revealed all this. I used to be a private person. I’m afraid of any more judgements I suppose.

I remember at the end of ‘Lord of the rings’ thinking ‘Frodo will you ever just let go of the ring!  If there was a euthanasia clinic would I have the courage to go there? One of the consequences of my brain injury is difficulty in making decisions. Can’t even decide whether to post this or not. This is the first website I’ve come across where I’ve connected with what people have written.People have written such beautiful words to describe their pain. I wish I had used my creativity more.I’ve lost my creative spark . It’s hard to even form thoughts some days.It’s horrible losing parts of yourself. I seem to keep losing more and more.My mum says it’s like living with someone with alzheimers.It’s true you really don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone. Maybe that’s the lesson in all of this.Enough Moaning. I’ve been able to write this so some part of my brain is working. The ranting part.Goodnight.

Tish.

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