Life is a test of how well I can handle the sudden ups and downs, only thing is there is no grade at the end of the test giving feedback as to how well or poorly I’ve passed. -Me
The last few months have been pretty odd, yeah; odd that’s the word I’ll use to encapsulate my feelings. My uncle died, then my best friend husband died, and now my uncle died. However each of these deaths is different, my uncle died in a freak car accident, my best friend’s husband died from jumping off of the freeway over pass while od’ing and my uncle died of AIDS. Then add on top of this my own personal issues and growth equals a possible breakdown, which really frightens me.
I will get to why this frightens me in a moment.
I’m not much of a griever but instead I will focus on many tasks to keep my mind off of the fact that a person has died or left my life. The reason being is: why focus so much on a person leaving when I could focus on moving forward with my life? Why cry and mop about over the fact that a person has left? I think the answer to that; it is pointless. I mean, really, life has a cycle and we all one day will have to play the part.
Now, do not mistake my view on grief as I am heartless and inconsiderate. I don’t want to grieve over a person who can no longer hear my words about them to them. They are dead and that is the way it is but to sit and loose my marbles over what I knew was going to happen is making matters worse.
Because of my indifferent reaction to death causes this question to arise: what if my immediate family died of a murder and I was the suspect?
I don’t mourn the way a “normal” person would in American society thus I would be guilty of the crime because I would not respond in the typical manor. Which I don’t think is justified. It’s like people want you to react and act in a manor that would be pleasing to them which will equate my “respect” to the dead. Yet, if I respond in the typical fashion then I am looked at as if I am ok.
Anywho, I am going to get off of that soap box and explain why I would be frightened of a break down.
Around the August before September 11 I had a break down. I lost my job, I was raped ,attempted raped, sexually harassed, and had to move back to my dad’s home... which going back there was not the first choice but the only choice. The whole month I started living there I was being pressured to find a job or go into the military by him. I knew I was working my ass of to change my current situation because I did not want to live back with him either ( quick rundown of history :old fashion stern short tempered yet loving father meets young recently turned adult who wanted to experience life you put the two together. Ah yes the good ol’ oil and water analogy) but I needed a place to live till I was back on my feet. One morning he told me that I had 2 weeks to find a job or off to the man’s army I go. Well that was the straw that broke the camels back.
I decided since nothing right was going in my life, I was a failure, and everything that was happening to me was my fault equated suicide. Was that the brightest idea looking back, no, but at that particular moment yes. (Sorry for giving the Reader’s Digest version of my break down but I want to make my point soon) So I made a prescription cocktail, by researching the drugs and the effect on line, once I found a combination I liked I made the cocktail and decided to” checkout” but before I collapsed I called my mentor. I told my mentor what I did, asked her to tell everyone I was sorry and passed out.
Why I say all of this is that I feel that same sort of pressure now. Whoa... I’m not going to “check out” again because I am aware of my depressive moods and I talk to people now, but knowing that I could go there is frightening. Every day I wake up I have to remind myself that I have a reason to be here and cheating out by checking out is not justified.
Yes, I was very young and never did learn how to cope with stress or really felt comfortable talking to anyone about what was going on with me. I always frowned on telling people what was wrong with me because I saw it as a weakness a form of manipulation that could be later used to hurt or confine me. (Now, don’t ask how a 16yro kid came up with this idea that formulated her early adult life but she, as in I, did.)
Ah-ha then again that could be why I’m indifferent to death because I tried to send myself on a one way ticket there and people I hadn’t talk to in ages all of a sudden cared. They wanted to tell me things that they should have said and treat me like a kid in a glass case. That’s not the point of death is to cry an mourn of the what I should of said but instead pause, remember who they
It’s frightening to know that I have to stop myself from my other self to enjoy life. This is why people wonder why I am happy most of the time it’s because if I let my self go into sadness I can’t pull myself out.
Sadness is moments that I may shed a tear ponder for a moment or three realize there is nothing I can do the change the current situation to move on to right now the new issues at hand. To live a lie in sadness only creates a madding effect of emotions non- controlled as a bottomless black pit. Clawing to free ones self to the light.
I know my message was a bit depressing but overall I am fine. I know that to I need to talk and let my feeling free. I no longer bottle up what is going on nor do I dwell in what I can not change. Yet sometimes it’s a little okay for me to have sadness but I’ll get over it in a month. Normality here I go
