I wish my awareness would dullen some or just disappear. I always walk by a mirror and look myself in the eyes and i can see and feel the sadness. I can see the tears that make up my brown eyes. My hands are calloused and aged. My heart aches and struggles again. My chest wants to break free of the tight bands of muscles surrounding it. My feet tired of walking on the earth.
Oh the feet enjoy the warm from hot asphalt and cold wet blades of grass. Just like my tongue it enjoys the bitter taste of chocolate or the burn of a pepper. The eyes love the vibrancy of colour, the many subtle movements most people take for granted. The ears love music and the feel of bass that travels the whole body. And touch. My hands enjoy the soft of fur, the rough of bark, the prick of rose thorns and the wet of pine sol.
But just like my body enjoys everything, it wishes not to be around for it any more. It tells me in subtle ways and I listen. I’m so aware of my body and understand what it wants and does not. The pain in my toe I know to not press a lot of weight onto it. When my ears ring I turn down my music, when I eat and pepper and my throat is so raw I know I must take care of the cold I’ll be getting the day after. And when my headache rises I know to turn off everything, take off my glasses and rest with a cold towel over my face. Oh I know…I know what to do.
Now it’s tired of doing. Of walking eating breathing, feeling, numbing, tingling aching crying screaming fighting remembering contemplating questioning existing.
My friends know. I told them before and reminded one a few days ago. They know I’m suicidal. Not that I plan to carry it out in the far future. How do you explain that to someone? You don’t. It would be hard to comprehend. Just like I have trouble comprehending that I should actually be alive in the first place.
Have you had that before? You’re getting ready to rest your eyes for the night for them only to shoot open with fear? You’re mind speaks to you. It tells you it cannot be possible that any of this is real. It doesn’t make sense. Being born is like when you black out before reaching the bottom of the stairs after falling or right before impact as you are hit by a car. You weren’t aware before, but when you awake everything is unreal. You can’t possible really be here. And when you press your mind to reach that danger zone. That lock in the back of your head that you MUST have been alive before this. You must have. You brain kicks you out like a hacker trying to break into fort knox. IT’s the strongest force to battle. Pushing and pushing only to be pushed back 17 steps. And when you give up…your mind silly as it is will taunt you. “Do you want to see what’s behind this door?†I try to walk away, no run away. And everywhere I go it follows. Everything I distract myself with it knock very loudly. It knocks until you tell it to shut up. And for awhile it does….Then it comes back again.
So I sit here. I work on anything to distract myself. And to tell a therapist? Ha. The greatest fear comes back. Starting all over again. I still have yet to call the cardiologist, psychiatrist, and pain doc. I’m afraid. I’m so afraid of having to start all the hell over again. “So why are you here today? What did you work on with your past doctors†Answering the question all over. I have to answer it for them eventually though. One last time. Because if nothing is wrong with me then I’ll stop wasting their time, my time and my breath and put up with whatever happens raw. I don’t like pills. I like my liver, pancreas, gall bladder, appendix etc etc. If I end up like them….then I know what I need to stop putting around and do. To face the final force.
I’ll stop my rambling. I need to get ready to put up with the burning scent of windex. I still have much to do today