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"...besides love, independence of thought is the greatest gift an adult can give a child." - Bryce Courtenay, The Power of One

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Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Choice?

I've been depressed since six years of age.  Not just a little sad or moody, full on clinically, deeply, sometimes-I-struggle-to-breathe depressed.  I've been suicidal so many times, I've lost count.  I'm still living because of a promise.  I'm not always happy about that, but my word is sacred to me and I won't be forsworn.

Despite the depression, life is beautiful.  Perhaps more beautiful because of the endless sorrow that dogs me.

Every time I hear of or know a person who takes the final step, I am so deeply saddened.  I wish they'd had the one thing that would have helped them hang on one more time.  I wish I could have sat with them in that timeless moment and shown them...I don't know...whatever they needed to see that they were needed, valued, wanted, here.

I am sometimes envious - they're not here, not dealing with it any more.  They are free in a way I cannot be while on this side of the veil.

I've said it before and I'll say it again and again - suicide isn't about wanting to die.  It's about NOT wanting to continue living this way, and NOT seeing any way out.  It is about escaping a life that seems untenable, irreparable, undesirable. It's about being so steeped in misery that it'll never wash away, we'll never be clean, we'll never shine again.

Want another perspective?  Go read this.

Anyone who goes on about how it's selfish and the person doing it wasn't ill but rather made a choice has (I would argue) NEVER actually been in that moment, inches away from the door and so damned ready to step through they would leap.  Because they'd know it isn't about who's left behind...indeed, the one doing the leaving KNOWS they'll hurt the ones left behind, but they often believe, deeply, to the bone, that the people they're abandoning will be better off without them.  I have always thought so.  Even my kids.  Especially my kids.  They'd miss Mommy for a minute, but then?  They'd have a much better life without me being the albatross around their necks.

If depression is a choice, so is cancer.  They do the same thing, don't they?  Eat away at you until there's nothing left?  Eat away at you until cessation of life seems preferable?  Eventually, they can both be beaten, or at least held in abeyance...and eventually, they can both kill you.

It's okay if you don't understand...I hope you never do...

4 comments:

Ellen said...

I understand. My promise is to my best friend.

Unknown said...

Oh my goodness! YES, this is exactly it!!! This says it perfectly! Thank you for putting into words what I can never explain for myself...... I am so happy that you won't break your promise. <3

Momlady said...

I'm so very glad you made that promise! And oh how I wish I could lift that demon from you.

Donna Donovan said...

I've walked that same walk, my dear, still do. And yes, I am one of those who will say publicly that suicide is the most self-absorbed act. Bear with me on this...self-absorbed because all that person sees in that moment IS their pain. And yes, Kiki, it IS a choice. I consciously make a choice each time I do not put the barrel of that gun in my mouth. I CHOOSE to live. As do you. No, it is NOT like cancer...I beat that asshole fair and square, with my own two fists and a wonderful gynecological oncologist. Do we CHOOSE to have depression? Absolutely not...but we DO choose how we deal with it. Just my 2 cents