That was then..

In my last post I alluded to the very dark place that I lived in, in my heart and mind, for many, many years of my younger life. I recently found a piece of old writing that partially describes my state of being from back then. It's not particularly well-written but I share it with you regardless because it's raw and real and so was I. It was written on May 17, 2001 but occurred on September 28, 1998, a year and a few months post-suicide attempt. I had been slowly coming back to life within that year-and-a-bit and one day my resolve to LIVE surfaced with a vengeance. With a couple of shoves from a couple of caring friends, I took the first steps onto the new path that would lead me to precisely where I am today. Here was how that morning went..

What kind of person do you want to become?

I awoke from another fitful sleep, the brazen September sun mocking me. The bloodshot of my eyes imitated the crimson of the leaves pressed against the motel window. I could feel my stomach weighing heavy in the back of my throat, threatening to come the rest of the way up and the weatherman inside my skull was calling for heavy fog and thunderstorms; fifty percent chance of showers. I turned my head slightly to check the time. A piercing ray of sunlight reflected through the residue of Burgundy in the glass on the table beside the clock. I squinted. Two pm. 

The stench of cigarettes crept into my nostrils from every corner; the ashtray overflowed on the table. Further inspection of the room revealed chaos. The tacky, scenic motel picture lay on the floor, the glass smudged with sticky white powder and littered with rolled-up twenty dollar bills. Four wine bottles and an empty case of Heineken sat dejected next to the television set. 

Water.

On the way to the sink I tripped over the dress I had flung onto the floor at seven that morning and kicked it under the desk. I turned on the faucet and tried to find myself in the mirror over the sink.

I caught her eye, there in the streaky mirror under one waning fluorescent light bulb. She stared back at me, a stranger with sunken eyes and grayish skin made more dreadful by the garish light. She looked sad and afraid, pathetic really. Her blonde hair fell limp against her forehead. Her frail-looking body seemed to shake all over. I felt my lip begin to quiver and I noticed her action mimicked mine. I stared hard at her face, which bore such a striking resemblance to my own and I stepped away from her gaze; I didn't want to look at her anymore. My foot found the wineglass that had been carelessly left on the bathroom floor. 

With the blood came clarity.

"I have to go. Now."

::

The very next thing I did was to call two friends that I will forever credit for saving my life: Tom Roman and Cate Parry. Each of them told me something different. Each of them gave me the extra boost of strength I needed to pick up, pack up and start over again. I remain eternally grateful and humbled by their gifts to me that day.

:: 

Go placidly amidst the noise and haste..

In peace and love..

Lightning Dove

xo.