Here I am. Another night, another thought; like the nights before, and like the thoughts before. Only difference tonight being a Google search and bumbling into this website.
Well, sigh. Here goes.
My story starts about 18 years or so ago, back when I was 12. I wasn’t actively thinking about suicide before this time, but they put me on the mind destroying drug Ritalin and the rest is history. It was Xmas eve, and I had made a super potent spicy drink for ‘Santa’. Well, my naive little mind thought I had made the drink so strong that it was going to kill my mother. Of course that wasn’t true, but I believed it were and that’s all it took. That night I committed my first suicide attempt. It wasn’t anything special, I put a pillow over my face and half suffocated to death. Before I was a complete goner though, an imagine appeared in my head and seared itself to the back of my retinas.
It was a grey, cloudy, bleak, drizzling and dreary day. My family, among other people gathered around a grave. I knew instinctively that the grave, was my own. I saw the looks on their faces, especially my mothers’. It horrified me and I came back to life.
I may have survived, but what I did took its’ toll. Slowly over the months my brain would return to that place, to the fact that it knew, and only it knew, that I had once died. It would only be at night, when there was no other light, and my mind was forced to contend with itself that these thoughts would be my blight. Then high school began, and soon throughout the day my brain with its’ thoughts did ran; and I became more of a suicide victim than that of a man. But whenever I held a knife, this time being the one I was determined to end my life, the same image conjured itself again, and again.
Years and years passed by, with me ever so silent about my growing dilemma. Everyday a little more of me whittled away in repetitive death delving. With escapism being my only salvation. Drugs, cartoons, video games, a waste of life but the only way I knew to keep mine. Otherwise the thoughts would gnaw at me like a woodpecker on bark. I failed out school, again… And again.
I didn’t care at this point, life had already played out with me as the fool. The world kept turning, as I kept my secret. Until I became more of it, than I was ever was of me.
Still that image seared itself in the back of my mind, the haunting image that was the byproduct of when I once suffocated myself alive, was now the red rope keeping me tethered to this life.
I push everyone away, with exception to the one person I relied on. At this point feeling more sorry for her, than the worthless son that I had become. Yet still, silently I suffered.
My dreams gave me no quarter when I had them, led undoubtedly by a mind turned traitor. I was shown my death a million times, but could never die. I suppose this was a blessing, at least I wouldn’t die in my sleep, though it would of been for the best.
Only two of such dreams do I still remember, out of the quagmire of times that seemed to have went on forever.
The first of which being something straight out of the 2012 movie, before it was made. I had, in the dream, caught a weird news line in the public domain, but I didn’t pay much attention to it I’m afraid. Arrived at home, I appeared in my dream, only to see a bright lit outside and people walking around strangely, aimlessly. I walked out to them to ask them what’s the matter, only to have then noticed their eyes having melted straight out of their skulls. They merely pointed up, up to an expanse I hadn’t yet dared to look. But as they did I glanced skyward, and there I beheld.. It was a sky more vivid than real life or even the scariest of nightmares. It was an imagine of the sun burning against an orange sky, with another great fireball much closer and larger in size. Brilliant reds, fire entangled yellows, layers and layers of color that would make even the greatest painters feel marginalized. It was the most spectacular thing ever beset upon human eyes. Only a few seconds into this I felt the heat drill into me, my eyes began to boil and I fell to my knees. And embarrassed myself in the most christian of ways. Asking, begging, pleading not to die this way. When a mysteriously cool cloak of blue did then surround me and the dream whisked me away..
The second death dream wasn’t nearly as endearing. The forces to be played chess with the species, the end result being everyones’ favorite fear ridden way to die, nuclear annihilation. I found myself caught in the blast, which was accompanied by a sound louder than anything I had ever heard in a dream, as if someone had shot off a shotgun next to my ear in real life. I experienced my front side being hit first, with my very molecules being blown away from my entire being; Transmuting and energizering themselves into light. My dreamed paused halfway through my annihilation, in an emergency overload shutdown, and I witnessed myself in all states of matter simultaneously. My back end being the only thing still human, a second more of dream time being all that was needed to rectify that. My innards being a mix of scattering molecues and fluids, on the verge of transforming into light into the wind. I woke up in shock and quite surprised that I was still alive.
I have had many dreams which I faced the threat of dying, my seeming unconscious defense system keeping me away from all but actual death. All still better than when I wake up in the morning wishing the dream had been real this time.
Nowadays I find myself in no less of a rut, suicide and depression being a second nature to me. I’ve found someone new to live with, she being as full of suicidal depression as I imagine I was. But it doesn’t get any easier. I’m still as far from live as I am drawing near. Having made it this far, feeling content to let this body drop dead on its’ own.
Perhaps in the future I might salvage wasted life, or perhaps those who exist as my tethers will themselves pass on to a supposed afterlife. Until then I wait and cry away silently, wishing I hadn’t survived that night two decades ago.
And having been dying a little more each day ever since..
The end for now.
5 comments
I’ve read. I’ve listened. But one thing you wrote does not ring true. You cannot suffocate yourself to death with a pillow. You would pass out, lessen your grip on the pillow and start breathing again before you died.
Perhaps you had a vision, but it’s unlikely that you died.
No you cannot die that way, and at the age of 30+ I would expect that to be known………
If I remember correctly, I had my arms propped on top against it and yards yadda yadda. It doesn’t really matter if I could or not. What it comes down to was what I was haunted with since.
Why are you telling us this?
Are we being selected for a Special Mission?
You’re not selected for anything. Like I said or meant to say, it’s just a way of getting off my chest a part of something I’ve been carrying for nearly 2 decades.