Thoughts Of Suicide

Confession:
March 24th was going to be the end for me. Months with no car, pain, painful treatments, meds screwed up, isolated, low on cash, friends had gone (because I had no car), sick, losing weight, no appetite, no purpose...I felt I'd done all I could to be that "Happy Face" when I went out in public but it was cracking and I didn't belong anymore. To encourage myself, I'd say "You can't leave...u beat breast cancer. It'd be a waste." But sometimes u need someone ELSE to give you encouragement. These "agencies" they tell u to call when u need help were useless FOR ME and I was left on "hold" too many times. It made me feel I was taking up someone else's time. But that's one of my demons. All my childhood, I was told how much of a burden I was because my "free-loving" mom had accidently had me and dumped me on Grandma and Great-Grandma. But now at my age, I was supposed to be over that childhood trauma stuff, right?
I'd pray and pray...make arrangements for rides to the store that never came and car deals that fell through. I was getting tired of having to do it all alone. But I kept at it. I even made a hilariously sad attempt at figuring out just how much money I'd need to save to "turn everything around." My total? $2,115.42! At least it was a goal to work towards. Everyone needs a purpose to their life.
I'd play my favorite band, Pearl Jam's "In Hiding" song over and over again for encouragement to keep going because of the line, "It's funny when things change so much...it's all state of mind." But things weren't changing and my "state of mind" was self-pity heading towards resignation.
I also  started to become at peace with taking my own life. I didn't REALLY want to die...I just wanted all the pain to stop but it wasn't going to be possible. Sure, self-pity came into play. I went five days straight without seeing another human being--my choice--or anyone calling me--their choice. I told myself that if I did commit suicide, by the time anyone "missed me" my body would be so rotten I'd be unrecognizable! Only thing I could come up with at the time. But the "good news" was Life would go on and I'd be in Heaven.
That night, I did rethink it and literally said to my dog, "Hey, it's not so bad...we still have the TV" Ten minutes later, that TV started going on and off by itself eventually stopping for good. Damn!Funny in a morbid kind of way but Damn!  Then I paraphrased a Gene Hackman line from "The Poseidon Adventure." I looked up and yelled, "God, if you're not going to help me, PLEASE don't fight against me!" In my state of "clarity," I was at peace. Maybe God was telling me I'd served my purpose but like "Sam" from the classic "Quantum Leap" series--I hadn't "leaped" yet. I'd have to do it myself.
I honestly felt I was doing the right thing because I had tried my best and had failed at every turn. I'd even hitched a ride with my church van that previous Sunday and every hymn we sang was about "Going Home" and "Walking Around Heaven All Day."  Why not just go? Again, I really just wanted the pain to stop.
That night, I took my pistol out of its lockbox and went into the living room. I stared at it a little while reviewing my "plan" because I certainly didn't want to fuck up and end up paralyzed or still alive. Ten minutes later at 11:00pm, I received a text message. 'Who in Hell would text me at this hour?" I thought. I looked at it and it read, "Missing you." It was from Married Mike...of all people in the world...HE texts me? The "Old Lover" himself.  Months before, I had told him never text me again and I promised him I would never text him again. When I read it, I suddenly burst out laughing! I actually felt like I had won a game of "Whose texting who first?" I purposely hadn't changed my number because I had promised to never text him and if my promises aren't shit--I felt that I wasn't shit. I had "won." It's silly sounding but for the first time in a long time, I felt like I had accomplished something and my "state of mind" changed. I played "In Hiding" again and my thoughts of suicide were gone.  The next day I gathered up my courage, called my breast cancer doctor, told her my situation, how I'd been living and hurting and she got me to her office, did a work up and changed certain meds and added a couple. Some have antidepressant qualities that have made me more focused, motivated and productive. I have far less pain, less isolation and have set reachable goals. I learned that sometimes when you want someone...anyone to help or at least acknowledge you...it doesn't happen. You have to "go it alone."
I now have better treatment, a better state of mind, a helluva lot more confidence and even a car! No tv but....oh well! HaHa. I made myself a promise that no matter how bad things seem or hurt, suicide was out of the question--I'll just keep living...and I always keep my promises.
May my "confession" help someone stay with us no matter what the circumstances.   God Bless.

Old Lovers: Recurrence

I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2014, I thought the word "recurrence" meant the return of the toxic disease. Lately, I have learned that "recurrence" can also refer to toxic people.
Months ago, I had had enough of "M" and promised to never contact him again. The weight of that ridiculous "relationship" immediately fell away and I went back to normal life. Unfortunately, my "normal" is dealing with the aftermath of breast cancer, it's effect on me, my body, my spirit and my finances. Some days are better than others and some just suck but that's just the way it is.  One night a couple months ago, things were especially horrible. Body aches, bills, no car, a death in the family and the surprising loss of a few friends made me miserable. I was into some serious self-pity. Plans I had made had a fallen apart and Life didn't seem to be that wonderful anymore. Just as some tears began to form, my phone let me know I'd received a text message. I remember thinking, "Who in the Hell would text me at 11:00p.m.?" I got out of my chair, found my phone and found this, "I miss you!" It was "M."
"Really, God?" I asked. "Today's bad enough...now this? Not again, God." Then, I started to laugh. Of course! Why not? How f***ing ridiculous! I thought my last text had made it clear that texting had ended between us. I promised he'd never hear from me again. What's that old saying? "If your word ain't s**t, then you ain't s**t"? So I erased his text and went to bed.
The next day, my son and I were on the way to my oncologist's office when my poor, tired, old phone "made a break for it" by falling out of my hands, out the car window and shattering into little pieces on the side of the road. Divine intervention! That phone and number was history and I actually had to get another phone...not because of "M" but because my phone had met with a tragic accident! New phone. New number. No "M."  God, I love it when a plan comes together!!!
Monday morning, I get on Facebook and I'll be damned if I didn't get a message from "M." I forgot that people don't have to be one of your FaceBook Friends to contact or "add you." The message  read, "hope you are doing well. Missing you! You have my number please text me..." Son of a b***h! Dang that Facebook! That's how this whole thing started!
But I've moved on.
I haven't responded to his messages and won't. I don't need to know "why" or "how bad are things that you'd reach out to me." No point. Been there, done that...and all I have to do is nothing. I don't need any closure. I "closed" everything months ago when I said...promised... he'd never hear from me again. I know I'm supposed to analyze, re-analyze,  explain or try to explain his "reasons for texting," "what could he be thinking" and all the other horses**t women tell themselves when it comes to men but I'm DONE! Seems like it's one of those situations where one party won't take "no" for an answer. Sure, it's sort of an ego boost that he keeps trying to contact me but this married man is no longer my problem. No more "self-inflicted wounds"!
I take medications daily to prevent the recurrence of cancer but to prevent a "social" recurrence like this there are no meds...the best action is NO action.
Sometimes someone you thought you "would never get over" doesn't matter anymore. You got over them! Their name doesn't cause a physical response anymore. In fact, you have no response at all. That's where I am. That's what I'm doing...nothing.
I promised!