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.