As I mentioned in my first blog post I
will be exploring and writing about the things in my life that I
struggle with. Some of those things are ugly and dark and this one is
one of the darkest I've written so far. It is of course the truth and
although it is about one of the dark times it is a reminder to me
that I survived. Not that I was kidnapped or forced into heroic
deeds to save myself or others from impending doom. This fight was
against myself and it is still one of the biggest fights of survival
I have faced. Depression and self hatred is one battle that is fought
on almost every given day. This day in particular was life and
death. I'm glad I chose the first one. I have been on both sides of
the coin. When I say this I mean I know what it's like to lose
someone from suicide. 3 someones in particular and knowing what it
feels like to be in so much emotional pain and woe that it seems like
the only option. I sympathize but I pray I never hurt my family and
love ones in that way.
“To be or not to be...” this
opening to a Shakespearean soliloquy is one of the most frequently
quoted partial lines I have ever heard. Hmph! Shakespeare would be
the one to make the prospect of suicide poetic. Truth of the matter,
being in the moment of contemplation is anything but. It can be a
form of madness, a chasm of grief, but poetic? Sad to say I have
thought about this more than once and I have been in and put myself
in situations that it is a wonder that I am here now writing about it
and not six feet below in a dirt nap.
Working in an office no matter where
can be a dehumanizing experience and with the idea of global
corporate takeovers things can become even more so with drab cubicles
and mundane ideas of buying out something being run by people who
care, and have feelings to an artificial form called a corporation.
Corporate is black and white. People have gray areas. Those gray
areas are what make people different it is what makes Sally outgoing
and happy and what makes Mary shy and sweet. Corporation’s job is
to squash all of that. Take that out of an equation and make Sally
and Mary the same. As an artistic type, that was the beginning of
work week misery.
(Okay, I hate the corporate ideal. You
got that part. Don't worry, I'm moving on.) As a person dealing with
depression, I would like to mention that I hadn't at this time been
seen or treated chemically for this matter. I hid my sorrow publicly
with jokes and sarcasm because it was a coping mechanism that had
seemed to work so far. This particular day was different. Aside from
the self injury rituals I was performing almost daily, I was also
starving myself. In two months I lived off 4 foods celery, raisins,
pickles, and on occasion half of a 100 calorie snack pack. I was also
purging when I slipped up and ate a pear or cookie. Anything that
varied was a reason to hate myself more. This particular dark day was
evaluation day. The day most people look forward to as a day to get a
raise. It's also known as the day your boss gets to tell you how you
don't measure up according to corporate (Oops! Thought I was done).
I had gone above and beyond my job description by being available to
doctors and some staff as the “Spanish translator” some people
teased me with that. Truth is I should have sent corporate a damn
bill. My job was to prep charts, relieve front desk, relieve
switchboard, answer the phone as medical records, which was another
umbrella for whatever the heck no one else wants to do. I also had to
get records from satellite clinics for insurance companies on behalf
of patients. Not to have to go into exam rooms and see people in many
forms of undress and tell them that they have cancer. In any
language that sucks! I did get a thank you but it followed with how I
will never get a perfect evaluation because we always have something
to improve on. Those words rolled around in my head all day and by
the time lunch came around I was screaming in my head that I was
worthless and no matter what I do in my job I will never be perfect.
I will always be striving for something always unattainable! At that
moment I was done. I had been longingly gazing at the parking garage
every time I passed one of the offices with windows. Not because my
car was there and I wanted to drive off in the sunset and give
corporate the proverbial finger but because I had started having
twisted fantasies of throwing myself off the top. On most lunch
breaks people make decisions between the spaghetti or the salad, to
eat outside or inside, to eat what is in the brown bag you brought
from home or spend extra cash on a restaurant choice. That day mine
was Shakespearean. I stood at the top of the parking garage slight
breeze blowing the hair across my forehead and I touched the wall. It
was warm. Not what I was expecting. The sun had been beating down on
it. “Is this high enough?” My spoken question startled me. I had
spent most of the day in my head. Every question and every word had
been unspoken. I glanced at the lager hospital parking garage visible
from where I stood. Nope. Too close to the hospital. Need to make
sure this is over. I need to make sure not to waste anymore space.
I stood there playing tug of war with my psyche. Angry with myself
for not achieving enough and knowing this would be penance. How?
This would be a nuisance to whoever had the unfortunate job of
cleanup. This place is better without you. You are poison.
Will my bills be a burden to my parents. This place is better
without you. You are poison. How will my best friend handle
this? This place is better without you. You are poison.
Everyone of those questions were answered the same. Now I had to
look for a car old enough not to have an alarm. One close to the
wall I can climb on and see where I would land. No, I might change my
mind if I look. This place is better without you. You are poison.
I need to get a bit of a run and leap. Do I really want to do this?
Yes, this place is better without you. You are poison. My
dog, what will happen to Freckles? This place is better without
you. You are poison. Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! “Shut up!!!!”
For the first time ever I told that negative voice that reminded me
all my life that I wasn't enough to shut up! Why? I don't know
really. Maybe it was the India that wanted to live. Maybe because I
stopped being selfish and thought of how my precious beagle who had
done nothing and had spent earlier years chained to a stake outside
until I brought him home to live with me. He deserved a good life and
I couldn't insure that unless I was here. (Call bullshit if you want
but at that moment that is what I clung to).
So in the moment of hopelessness and
despair, what do you cling to?
