A few days ago I made an attempt and failed. Â Although the entire event was totally painless and quite peaceful I awoke about 30 minutes after only to find my body had apparently taken over using its’ reflexive ability to remove what was “causing harm”. Â I did not take this into consideration and therefore it serves as yet another example of my capacity to fail miserably. Â The end result was a massive headache which slowly subsided as the evening wore on and a persistent thought that I may have caused some sort of brain damage.
Having a bit of medical knowledge I performed self tests to ensure my functions seemed normal but only so that I could make sure I would be able to think clearly in preparing my next steps. Â How did this make me feel? Â Anger, rage, self-loathing, disappointment, grief … all pointed internally at myself. Â The next morning I immediately began preparations and this time I was going to ensure it would go off without a hitch. Â By this time I really could care less if there happened to be a few painful moments as long as it would be over with no chance of being “rescued”. Â I laugh at that word, by the way: “rescue”. Exiting this existence *is* my rescue and being kept from doing so would be “punishment”.
Today, I headed over to my local “suicide bridge” for a rescue that would only take 2 to 3 seconds. Â Quite a famous bridge actually (although not as famous as the Golden Gate). Â My plan was to walk about a bit across the bridge taking in the scenery. Â I would wait for the egotistical joggers, runners and bicyclists to clear, wait for the perfect pause in traffic (I don’t want to be seen by anyone especially an innocent child) then quickly hop over the ledge knowing my rescue would be a short three seconds later. Â As I exited the bus I froze in my tracks: a “suicide fence” had been erected. Â How could I have been so stupid? Â How could I have not known this was taking place? Â I can see this bridge from across the water at my own house and still I did not know? Â Apparently the businesses and boat owners below found the extreme number of “jumpers” to be bad for business or an inconvenience to their gorgeous landscaped views of the boat-filled waters and petitioned the city and state for a $4 million fix. Â I walked both sides twice looking for my door-to-rescue but could find none. Â So now here I am.
Now the feelings of anger, rage, self-loathing, disappointment and grief have become more intense. Â It seems I am successful in only finding ways of failing. Â What do I do now? Â I’ve struggled for many years of this adult life “pushing on” and trying to “shake off” these feelings and now it seems I am left with no other choice but to suffer a while longer all the while hearing stories of how others have rescued their own selves. Â Even just a short while ago the local news broadcast a story of another who was rescued by death. Â Failure in my projects. Â Failure in my personal life. Â Even on my social media sites: failure. Â I’ve not made any posts in almost two weeks after being a daily multi-poster for well over three years and how many people, even those locally who claim to be “friend”, have asked where I am? Â ZERO.
Now, I’ll see more comments on this site from those that say “you’re just not ready to let God in!” or “It’ll get better!”. Â I don’t believe in your archaic myth of a supernatural deity that is all controlling. Â It’s ludicrous. Â It’s preposterous and an insult to logic. Â I don’t look upon this as some form of existential spiritual crisis. Â It simply is a person who fails at everything failing yet again. Â If your only comment is spiritual or religious or in some form in regards to an “almighty” then simply keep it to yourself – your mystic or juvenile opinions and wishes are not welcome here. Â After all how many diseases have been cured by science? Â Literally thousands. Â How many by beseeching some mythical deity vis-a-vis candle lighting and prayers? Â ZERO.
For now, just keep silent and let me be until I figure out sometime soon the answer to my question, “And now what?”.