We did not change as we grew older; we just became more clearly ourselves.

7 Aug

A little while ago last year, I tried to kill myself.

I came a lot closer than anticipated.

I didn’t feel the fear then. At the time, I remember feeling Dali-esq, ice in my veins. Detached from everyone and everything in my life and world. I remember wanting so desperately to be heard and noticed.

I didn’t really want to die. I just wanted to stop feeling how I had been feeling. I just wanted something to change.

I can remember how shiny and “real” everything felt, how slowly the air seemed to move around me. How the air smelled like cupcakes. I started wavering in and out of consciousness, and the nurses started yelling at me to stay awake, stay there. It was so cold in that room.

My hand held charcoal as they repeated how close to destroying my body I had been. An hour more, 30 minutes more spent lying in bed deciding…I could have lost my liver, and yes, my life.

They were kind, and gentle at a time that I needed someone to not judge, not wound me. When I awoke, violently ill a few hours later, they held my hair and told me I’d be ok.

This is hard to write somehow.

*****

This last year has been one of the most difficult of my life. Last summer was awful, I lost my job, I’ve had to take a paycut and a job well under my abilities. I lost my ability to see and believe that life, and those of us in it, are good people. I’ve been forced to grow, forced to challenge who I am.

I’ve been forced to face the fact that I didn’t die at 30, and that life continues beyond it.

I’ve begun to form a picture of where I want to go, who I want to be. All those things most of you started at 19 or so, dreaming of the world you wanted to create. I stood, stagnant inside myself for years, unwilling, unable to look forward, terrified to be honest, of believing that tomorrow could come. I can now sleep knowing that tomorrow doesn’t necessarily mean the end.

I’d like to say I’m happy this all happened. In some ways I am. In many ways, having my own shit shovelled down my throat was exactly what I needed. But it’s come at a cost and that cost has been pain-how I have ached with loneliness and fear this year, set free to float into my future. Now I can look ahead and I’m frightened of where I might go, tormented by the desire to set foot into that ocean and the terror of doing so.

The terror of finding what I really want.

I’m not healed. I’m not perfect. I still have my days where the color of the clouds makes me cry into my pillow until 4am while my husband patiently waits for it to vent itself. I still have days where my anger could menace entire communities, gorge itself on small people and cars. I still have times where I doubt myself, and greatly, wondering how in the hell I got here anyway.

But I’m not dead. I am not dead, and I’m getting through this summer in ways I couldn’t the past two years. I’m not dead and I’m stronger than I thought I could be. Scared, lonely somedays, as I find my footing, but very much alive, here and now.

*******

On the gurney, my head lolling to the side as the drugs I had taken sank deeper into me, I muddled an apology to the nurse trying to place my IV, so sorry for taking her time away from all the other people who really needed her help.

“It’s ok.  We’ve all been there honey. Lie back, and let us take care of you.”

 

Thank you, all of you, for being here this year. I’ve relied on your wisdom and humour more than you’ll ever know.

2009-07-29 092

Advertisements

17 Responses to “We did not change as we grew older; we just became more clearly ourselves.”

  1. misspudding August 7, 2009 at 2:49 am #

    Yay, you’re still here! I’m sorry I don’t check this site as much as I used to…I got stupid busy with school but I do remember that day. I remember thinking, “Oh, fuck! She’s just on the internet…do I worry? She’s Thordora!” I still think it’s strange that we connected years ago and that things are so different, yet still so much the same.

    Thanks for sticking it out a little longer. Some things will suck, but at least you’ll always have me and the rest of us who want you around.

    Oh, and BoOBEhS!!! 😛

  2. flutter August 7, 2009 at 3:01 am #

    I am really glad you are still around.

  3. Netter August 7, 2009 at 8:53 am #

    I’m glad you’re here, too.

  4. Marcy August 7, 2009 at 8:58 am #

    Thank you.

    And thank you to that nurse, too — oh those words of kindness.

  5. Sheri August 7, 2009 at 9:15 am #

    I know exactly what you’ve been through. I didn’t have any hope or even consideration for my future until I turned 40. You’ve got a 10 year head start. Keep going, it’s worth it.

  6. Laura August 7, 2009 at 9:54 am #

    *hugs*
    I’m also very glad you’re still here. And I’m incredibly happy that we’ve reconnected. Yay for the internet!

  7. Hannah August 7, 2009 at 10:09 am #

    I can’t believe that was only a year ago. So much has changed for you since… you’ve crammed a whole lot of living, good and bad, into twelve short months.

    Love you.

  8. Helen August 7, 2009 at 2:19 pm #

    The one thing that struck me most in this entry of yours:

    You were unselfish enough, even though you were in pain and almost dead, to apologize to a nurse for taking time for you when others needed her.

    You’re amazing! Don’t forget that. You have a view on life that no one else in this world does. It’s a pleasure for us to read your thoughts, too.

    By the way, I’m already well into my 30s, and can assure you that this decade is better in every way than the 20s. You have so much to look forward to. External circumstances may not objectively be very different, but your added maturity and ability to see multiple sides of an issue will help you in every way and enrich your life.

  9. ivyshihleung August 7, 2009 at 5:58 pm #

    I am so glad you’re still here, sharing your thoughts, experiences and talent for writing with others!

  10. sweetsalty kate August 7, 2009 at 6:50 pm #

    I adored Helen’s comment. And I adore you.
    xo

  11. Kay August 8, 2009 at 2:07 pm #

    What an amazing way of putting it into words you have… I actually got the chills reading it.

    Obviously, you’re not the only one that’s grateful that you survived – it seems like many of us are happy that you’re still here.

    We’ll never be healed, never be perfect… but I guess that’s not the goal. The goal is simply to BE. Be here, be alive. Some days, that’s enough. Other days, we want more than that – and those are the days that we’re finally able to hope and dream.

  12. kelly August 8, 2009 at 3:15 pm #

    I am glad you are here. And, I think she might be right. We have all been someplace like this. I know I have.

  13. ifbyyes August 8, 2009 at 4:40 pm #

    I found you through Hannah’s blog, and have been lurking for quite a while.

    As someone who is also struggling with depression at the moment, I feel your pain and I admire your strength.

    Keep fighting.

  14. B August 8, 2009 at 6:10 pm #

    Thordora – beautiful as always. I’m always so impressed by your bravery and ability to put into words what I’m thinking and feeling. I’m so glad that you are still here, still speaking out.

    Kay – what a great comment! I need to remind myself that I don’t need to be perfect on a daily basis.

  15. patois August 9, 2009 at 11:10 am #

    “Keep fighting.” Yes, that’s what you need to do. And all of those around need to take up the nurse’s fight.

  16. Cheeky Monkey August 9, 2009 at 11:24 am #

    I’m glad you made it, T. May the worst truly be behind you.

  17. Kelly O August 10, 2009 at 3:32 pm #

    Oh Thor, I’m so sorry. When 2009 is over, I say we burn something in celebration. The last year has sucked ass, and I don’t mean that in a good way.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: