Why I'm "Lucky"

I have been listening to I Will Follow you into the Dark which is probably one of the most asinine ideas (and songs) that show up all over the place, an AB fantasy. That whenever one of them dies, the other will too.

Life is for the living. I tried to get outside today. I didn’t but I will try again. Yes, sometimes I wish I was dead, but I’ve NEVER wished that Linda die simply because I do. That’s because I am not a narcissist, like our culture seems to be. When my Grandfather died, my Grandmother got lovers; admittedly having already MARRIED lovers in a care home doesn’t go down well on visiting day.

If I love Linda, I want her to continue: to live a full life, to love again, to meet someone she wants to spend the rest of her life with. I hope she waits until I am a bunch of ashes in a box first, that’s all. I want her to take trips, to have fun, to laugh without restraint. Heck, I want to do that now, it just doesn’t seem that with the stresses on us, to be possible, but maybe worth fighting for.

I know a lot about not wanting to be alive, about wanting to be anywhere but HERE: this place, this existance. I know about depressions so severe the pain is so severe it is hard to breathe, the pain in the bones such that it is hard to know how the blood circulates. Styron wrote that he slept on his left side in hoping of tiring his heart of beating. I know that, I knew that for years, decades. I still contend that my greatest victories were accomplished in the hours I sat sit, and did….nothing. I did not get a rope to hang myself, I did not get a butchers knife, I did not throw myself down the stairs, I did not throw myself in front of a train (though I was caught once by a student of mine climbing over the railing to do just that). No, I sat there, and I survived, even if it meant gripping the chair. Mostly because of Linda. If they want to make a song, they should make a song about staying here for someone, because that is what happened. I stayed, and tried, and tried and did different meds and came out and one day, one month, I had more days I wanted to be alive than dead.

I didn’t make that happen, some people will suffer from depression that is an illness I would not wish on anyone, for their whole life. I got lucky.

Right now I have 12 deep bleeder cuts on my right inside arm, five on the outside, two on the bicep, and six on the left arm, three or four on the collarbone (non-bleeders) and three on the jugular (non-bleeders). And I don’t remember why they are there (they are over a day old). Obviously I must have believed I was a bad person, a very bad person. I did it with scissors apparently which amazes me because as AB, I never could get enough force to cut with scissors, but a couple of these are quite deep, on a person with minimal circulation. But because of the Seizure, which may or may not be connected emotionally, I can’t remember. But I know I was in a dark place. I’m not going to take pictures of the cuts because this isn’t a contest and cutters sometimes get “triggered” by pictures. I don’t hide them, because this is a part of whole I am. But I suppose it is rather sad. Still, I consider myself lucky.

I am lucky because I know what it feels like to want to live, to be alive, to be fully in the moment, to be happy without regret. I have done things that made people happy and seen the happiness on their face. I have used my ‘powers’ across five or six languages and a couple continents and had experiences of genuine contentment. And I have shared these with Linda. Whatever is happening now, or this week or season doesn’t take that away, as long as I have one memory of it.

Does it make me sad that I am under such stress or unhappiness that I returned to cutting, to wanting to destroy myself so bad I CLAW at myself? Yes. But while that is a part of who I am, and will likely a part in the future, it will not be the majority of who I am.

I have met Cheryl, who I wish I had met years ago, but I didn’t and so the time we have is now. And much of it, I can tell by picture, I can’t remember. But that doesn’t take away from what I have. THIS is living. This also happens to be dying, which is why I can’t remember. It is also why I don’t need to believe in miracles. I was thirsty and you gave me drink: I have people in my life, people who I have never met who have taken parts of themselves and given them to me. I have cards, and postcards, and I have someone who takes off work to watch over me, someone who didn’t know who I was until maybe a year ago. And I have a partner who has had to take over responsibilities no one should have to: being a protector, being a caregiver as well as a partner and trying to keep all the roles straight. And trying every day to do better…..for me. Is there a great gift than that?

I know that whatever happens, that three things are sure. 1) I will definitely annoy someone in authority. 2) I have at least two people’s hands I trust to hold, and who will, by simply by being there, make it the one safe place in the world for me. 3) That I am a better person because of the people I have met and corresponded with online. If there had been no people to trust me, I would not have gotten the idea for the postcard project. If two specific people had not spontaneously sent me packages to cheer me up, I would not have thought to sent packages to make other people happy. If a specific doctor had not written to tell me to kick butt when it seemed I was all alone against the medico’s, I would not have realized that I am not alone. I am become a better person, a more aware person, hopefully a caring person, but also a challenged person because of number three – the people online. You make me more. Whether it is someone riding a bike while I do a 10K, or someone who didn’t leave me when the strip left me, or the people who have sent me pictures to cheer me up. It challenges me. I am here, I am, on some nights, carried back to the computer after seizures because I refuse to go to bed until I have fulfilled my promise to my friends.

As for number two, I could extol Cheryl’s virtues: she has an unending ability for turning a sexual innuendo, she can totally perv out and um, “enjoy” the sights of nature, as well as those created in animation! She probably has the hots for Betty from the Flintstones. Oh wait, those are only virtues to me. For me there is only one thing that I can say about Cheryl; that in all conditions, in all circumstances, she did not leave. She was there, and she cares. And I would die happy if I could see her in a corset (Zing!).

When I was a youth in the UK, I saw this 10 year old boy on a fallen tree above the brambles; “Jump” I told him, to come over to my fallen log, “I’ll catch you.” He jumped. He didn’t jump directly into my arms, so I grabbed him, held him to my chest as I fell off the log with my back to the ground. The brambles torn into my back and arms until I hit ground, but the boy was safe. He bounced up and bounded away.

In my life, if I commit, I will be there. I have found it…less so with others. I do not trust others. Or rather, I trust one thing about others; they fail.

Cheryl told me she would catch me. She did. I don’t know what the cost has been to her but I know it costs her, physically, financially and otherwise. I don’t ask because how can I second guess the choice she made; which was to keep her word. That’s Cheryl. She came for me (And I believe if you had come, back then, you would have fought and I would be a different person, because I would have fought too).

Linda, well, I suppose you could say that Linda is religion. You can believe in what you want, but Linda does it. No, she is not perfect. But she loves, and loves and even when she gets mad, she comes back and loves again. She heals the wounded, she tends the broken hearted, she gives sight to the blind, she frees the prisoner, being there for every nightmare and she has proclaimed the liberty, the freedom of the captive. I did not know how empty was my soul until you filled it. Because of you, Linda, I not only relearned what "wonder" was at seeing the world, I learned to share it. The rest is just how it plays out in life. Sometimes up, sometimes down, but as long as you are there, I WILL eventually sleep well, I will be at peace.

And authorities: I have a hatred for two things, bullies and hypocrites and believe me, men might be loud about it but women are experts at it. And women in positions of authority, where the most vulnerable can be found there will also be bullies and hypocrites. If you get paid to care, and you don’t, then I will expose you; and you will punish me. And I will expose you again. Certainly there are guys who do this, but since I am out of sports mostly and into “healthcare” it is a predominately female driven group. And if I can’t get at least a few people fired and one put in jail before I shuffle this mortal coil, then I’m just not trying hard enough. Haha. I laugh becuase I will not cry at a culture that doesn't want to see that someone who puts their vanity of authority ahead of care while preying on the weakest and most vulnerable members of society; they are the lowest parasites amoung us. I would that their name become synonymous with mistreatment, that they get nothing but an anonymous cleaning job the rest of their lives. Because ANYONE entrusted with care of people who are unable to protect themselves and who abuse them, be it verbally, emotionally, physically, or all of them has broken a sacred tenet. And while the Furies may be on retirement, I am not.

So, the end of the matter is this. Life is living. Yes, it sucks, it cuts you like a blade. It leaves you alone, it leaves you aching, it has times where you cry and don’t even know the name of the emotion which leaves you in that state. But if you have a memory of a blue sky, or a cat pouncing, or some private joy, then it can happen again. It took me over 20 years to find one person, and another 10 to find another. Yet, I AM lucky. And all the pain and seizures, and ripped muscles or loss of function or drooling or heart stopping can’t take that away. So Linda, don’t die with me, just TRY not to sleep with a lot of married women, okay?