Well, my hands are shaking. I feel incredibly sick. I have just cried four times in a row.
What in the hell is wrong with me?
Now that it's faded after a fifth quick spurt of crying, I feel almost embarrassed. I think my rational mind is reasserting itself. The desire for obliteration seems ludicrous, but not entirely. I think my brother might have heard me cry.
Here I am, in the house, surrounded by sleeping family and my life is worthless. Here is my face in the mirror - hideous. I look bewildered, stupid face.
Every time I think about how many tablets might be too much, my stupid fucking eyes cry. I make little creaking noises, and the blurring gives way to sniffing. Then snot and nausea. WHY THE FUCK CAN'T I EVEN CRY FREELY? Nausea hijacks my grief, truncating it every time. The soggy tissue is pathetic - not quite useless.
Whatever the hell it is strikes whenever my nearest and dearest are all asleep. They should fucking microchip me.
Guilt over TL stops me from really being able to make it happen. I tried to convince a friend not to kill himself via MSN - ultimately I succeeded somehow - but as I was bringing out all my usual quasi-jokey, quasi-desperate persuasion methods, he remarked that he couldn't hang around 'for other people's reasons.' He expressed self-loathing in between apologising to me - and I could see it was sincere - and mentioned that he was 'feeling selfish tonight.'
Ever since then, I've really found myself wondering whether it really is so worthwhile and humanitarian trying to persuade people of the value of life over death. It shook my certainty in a way I've never experienced before.
6 comments:
OK, girlfriend, if you were to commit chopsuey (as one friend calls it, don't know why), I (and who knows who else) would be deprived of your wit and beauty.
If you want a break from Londinium, you'd be most welcome here in Devon -- my daughter has the power to render anybody's thinking. :-))
Oh wow, you live in Devon? Are you really rich or something?!
Thank you for that lovely offer. I would certainly like to meet you and your gorgeous girl at some point when the weather's good, because Devon is so picturesque - I think I did my D of E (bronze) there.
Posting about my breakdowns is in itself a way of distancing myself from something - once you 'narrativise' something, it's already in the past, and that's the purpose of these posts. They also remind me that I've survived before and can survive again.
As a survivor, I absolutely agree with the last bit.
Now, unless, of course, you're humouring me, why do you think that for an Asian to live in Devon, they'd have to be rich? :) I've seen some poor one's round here.
To answer your question: I'm comparatively poor, and such is the nature of capitalism that one is always so within such a system.
Yes, Devon's great during summer. We're spoilt for countless beaches.
Oh, I didn't mean Asians in particular - I thought people generally had to be rich to live in Devon. Don't loads of celebs own houses there? Or maybe it's just certain areas, I guess?
Yeah, that's true, there's a good number of them here (I won't name the ones I see in my town). During the property hike, it was ridiculous and I won't say for how much my neighbours tried to sell theirs.
I hope you're OK - well, as OK as you can be. I know what you mean about things already being in the past when you are at the point when you can write about them. I still wanted to say I sympathise. I've been there, too. I know you *will* survive.
Post a Comment