Suicide.
That word conjures up memories staggering in pain and bitterness. This is a subject, Mom, that I realize will be difficult considering your history and the history of our family. Bear with me as you read this. It is of vital importance that you do so.
I love you, as I have shared in the past, and nothing will ever change that. But what has changed is what I now believe to be right. My commitment to truth, courage, and love all remains the same. But what happened nearly a year and a half ago was something that could not have been foreseen. You could not have prevented it, so if you have any feelings of guilt, shed them now. The time had long before arrived when I had to take responsibility for my own actions, safety, and future. Though I shirked that responsibility, it was still mine and mine alone to bare. Understand that, please.
Back then, I was slowly succumbing to death in body, mind, and spirit. Everything that you knew about me was slowly fading, disappearing into nothing. I wish to share with you the entry that I had in a blog back then that captures how I felt. Please read and understand that things had truly gone wrong in my life at that point and everything that followed after (even now) are all attempts to change myself for the better.
I am glad that I have changed. I do not regret any of my decisions since then. I have thought through a lot and have come to accept and love who I am. But, I am not finished with this letter. I have a poem to share from October of 2008 that captured how I felt during my first breakdown that lasted for two weeks. You didn't want to understand what it was about when I first shared it with you. Maybe in light of the blog post, you'll be more willing to accept that I was falling apart?Wednesday, January 21, 2009
The Thoughts of a Fool
I wish I wasn't writing this but I feel I must. I think it's high time I discuss some of the other issues that I struggle with. I call it sorrow because I haven't been diagnosed with depression or anything (just General Anxiety Disorder). When I was a sophomore/junior in high school, I unfortunately began to perform self-mutilation on myself. I didn't use a razor or a knife (thought about it) but used a pencil because it was discreet. My parents never found out about it and I eventually managed to overcome my need for it by finding healthier ways to work through my problems.
It appears I haven't learned my lesson.
Unfortunately, after 5-6 years I have cut myself again. As I sit on the computer there are four angry red slashes across my right forearm. I cried and I cried today feeling like an utter failure (these feelings have not passed). It frightens me to the point that I don't know what to do. I feel utterly and completely lost and I feel like no one even notices.
It seems like unless I make a sound I am forgotten and not even needed. But enough on that. Unfortunately, there is something else that haunts me now. Over the past six-seven months, the usual suicide thoughts that came about once or twice every few months (or even a year) have become more frequent to the point of occurring several times a week. I feel emotionally taxed already alongside a bad ability to handle stress, worn out from constant school work and just working to find ways to solve my financial situation. I believe that the suicide thoughts are still at the stage of harmless but are alarming nonetheless.
I don't know what to do. I need help. But it feels like everything in my life is just falling apart...and I can't seem to stop it. I'm terrified that if this isn't crisis mode yet that I won't be able to handle crisis mode.
I apologize for these remarks. I feel like such an utter failure.
Upon the Ground
Sometimes things break,Please, I'm begging you with all the energy in my body, understand what I'm trying to say here. I am not some selfish, sexual creature that cares only about what his hormones tell him. I am human, with thoughts and feelings. More importantly, I am your son and not some stranger. Read these words and feel the force of my emotions. This is not some game. It's life and I am doing what I think is right. All the sterile debates in the halls of academia and theology cannot measure up to the totality of experience, feeling, and thought in one person's life. See me for who I am and not what you want me to be.
Shatter,
Fall apart.
Single unity once displayed
Becomes several parts of a whole,
Equal,
Separate,
Same.
The loss of the singular
Can devastate the holder,
Weeping,
Sobbing,
Clinging to the broken pieces
Like a child to a broken favorite toy;
Wishing for an impossible dream, and
Unable to stop reality
In its cold,
Merciless,
Uncaring walk over such shattered dreams.
Where is the answer that undoes reality, and
Brings back the fragile,
Frail,
Malleable,
Temporal elements that once gave form to
All hopes and dreams?
Perhaps the many can pull together and be
One,
Whole,
Singular again.
Like light fragmented,
Splintered,
Scattered by a prism,
But continuously the same,
Eternally,
Unendingly,
Unfailingly one in its purpose and
Course:
So too can broken things be healed,
Reunited,
Salvaged.
Temporal things are like fractured light:
Scattered for a moment,
Yet eternally one.
Weep not over loss,
Sorrow,
Pain, for they are scattered.
But in time, unending time,
Unity is to be not denied
Its domain.
Cry no more and gather,
Collect,
Reunite those broken pieces.
They cannot deny their
Eternal design,
Calling,
Purpose.
I love you always,
Your son
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