I suppose these ideas have been swirling around in my head for a while now. I hope you enjoy the piece. Just wrote it right now. Love to you, C.A.
Bring It On.
Throughout my lifetime, as far back as I can remember, I've had periods when I've struggled with suicidal thinking. I've survived two serious suicide attempts -- three, if you count the reckless drinking days. Whoa, that's a "sledgehammer" essay beginning, I know. Bear with me. Often, a sense of hope leaks out and spills into my little stories. No worries.
Rock and roll.
This messy I-want-to-die-thought-pattern still comes and goes, even with hard work at my recovery and therapy, and even though I dutifully take the medication that keeps me from acting on it. Now, I admit that I'm a stubborn person. Ask my family. Oh lord, ask anyone I've ever dated. But in the mental health arena, stubbornness comes in handy; that is, it drives my ruthless fight to stay well.
I stick to it, because in turn, maybe I can help you.
When suicidal thoughts creep in, what do I do? Over and over, I talk about it. I tell my doctor, my mom, my dad, my spiritual adviser, anyone I trust deeply. I tell my uncle, the ducks, the trees. I talk about it in support groups. I write about it and later freak out about my naked transparency. I speak about it to crowds. I let...it...out. I have to. Sometimes I think, This is too personal. This is too shameful. No one should know this. But those damning thoughts are merely the darkness talking. See, being real and talking about it is what sets me free from it, because eventually, like all thoughts, these suicidal thoughts fade away.
Maybe even bliss rolls in. Never know when that gem might appear as well.
When I was little, I assumed that everyone had these thoughts daily, because I didn't know any different. I figured that the desire to die was a part of every person's schedule. Later, when I started to talk about it, I discovered that most people didn't ever think this way. Some, yes, for sure. And I also came to realize that I had a symptom of a larger monster, and this horror show was something that I could treat.
Treat, not cure. Treat. But I can help others treat it, and they can help me. I am never alone. I may spend a lot of time alone -- more than most -- but I am never truly alone. I mean, I believe in the Big Bang, but I also believe in a vast spirit, and I believe that there is great love within it.
Just my hunch. Look into some stranger's eyes. See the story there. We all have our fights. And there is one magnificent force that always helps, and that is love.
Which brings me to this...recently I've had a slew of health battles. Frustrating and painful, yes. Drawn-out. Annoying. Frightening. But right now, I sit here in pajamas, feeling nauseous, nursing a stress migraine (I guess, I've lost track of the aches, ha), and I'm realizing something: I may be one 5'2" woman, but I am truly powerful. Also, through the course of fighting through this past few months, I realize that if I'm working this damn hard at getting well, there is a bigger lesson here, and that is this truth: deep down, in the core of all of my being, I want to live. I want to live more than anything. I want to live. I don't have room for those negative thoughts anymore, because I want to live. Fuck suicide. Fuck that thinking in general. I don't have the time or energy for it anymore. I want to live.
I want to live because one of my friends is struggling with this dark thinking right now, and he needs support. I want to live because another friend has been in and out of the hospital for months, and he needs prayers. I want to live because I've been praying for two of my friends, and they both just miraculously got clean. I want to live for my parents, my brother and sister, my Mimi in heaven, and for all of the love in my life day in, day out.
Bring it on.
The next time I feel those suicidal thoughts creep in, I will remind myself of these past few months, and I will remember how I've walked around with a new sense of trust in the spirit that resides somewhere, out there. Lately, I may not have been 100% physically, but spiritually, I've felt strangely strong and new.
And if the dark thoughts roll in, I will remember how I feel right at this moment -- my soul wants to live, and the obsessive thinking is just that...invalid, obsessive thinking.
If you are struggling out there, above all, belt it out. Call, write, go to a group, hug your cat, take pictures, sing, dance, box, do yoga, do whatever it takes to turn it around. And remember, even in the blackest alleys, love is always a solution. Always.
My place here is divine. Your place here is divine. And rest assured that no matter what, everything always changes, and in the end, there is great joy coming for me, and for you.
C.A. MacConnell
