My "Outlook"on life has forever been changed. In the last few weeks I have experienced the beginnings of transformation as a person, man and human being. Most of my friends know that I have been experiencing some "stress" lately and many know that I tried to end my life three weekends ago. Truth be told it wasn't the first time. Twice before, in my short, yet troubled life, I tried to commit suicide. Once in high school, I took a bottle of Aspirin. Yes, Aspirin. I won't mention the company name, don't need or want any "dismiss and decease orders, or whatever they do to protect their images. (There's some humour in there...somewhere) The only thing that happened was --I fell asleep and woke up the next morning. DAMN!! (it's called "dark comedy"--don't mean to offend anyone---*insider* "The Bridge Club..now that's the humour they were looking for...)
The second was years later, after I returned home to Philadelphia with a secret. I was diagnosed with HIV in 1991.
In 1994, I returned to the U.S., with the knowledge and "mindset"-- that I was "terminally ill."
It was the early years of the virus and people were dropping left and right. Selling off their insurance policies, jumping off of tall buildings in single bounds---no references what-so-EVER!!!! Although, oddly, the actor who played in the original series of Superman, from the 1950's attempted and succeeded, a major loss.
......I didn't inform my family about my illness. No one knew until 1997, when after a binge of partying, copious amounts of Ecstasy and Crystal Meth, I came back to the apartment I rented in Center City and slit my wrist. I was lucky, a friend found me, took me to the emergency room, from where I was admitted to a facility, basically to detox and clear my head. Went into therapy, thought I was okay and went about life as I thought and knew it to be--
This third, and for the record, THE LAST, is still somewhat of a mystery.
I've spoken to quite a few folks, my Mom and family, friends, the doctors from the hospital where I was admitted, the therapists, and even other patients who were admitted for various other reasons...How did I get into this funk? I dont' know.
What's shocking is that I was drug and alcohol free!!!!
The only thing in my system were the prescription meds I had taken to "drift off" after I had taken a razor blade to my wrists. Doing it the way I thought would allow the most "drainage"--if you will--in a bathtub. Again, lucky-- I was found-- to the horror of my sister. We've talked and OUR relationship is stronger, but it will be a long time before the memory of what I put her through will be just that--a memory. She's forgiven me but the process really must start with me--and me alone. Funny, I always isolated myself, I guess because I didn't want to face myself. But now, I needed to look in that mirror and tell myself something, I forgive you. I love you.
I am forgiving myself. And honestly, it's not that hard. I just had to make a switch---and it clicked, for me.
I realized that the ENERGY and WILL that it took for me to do what I did--could be, AND IS, the same ENERGY and WILL that can bring me to the other side, and give me what I want from this life.
I am Recovering from the shame and embarrasment. Forgiving myself for the pain that I brought to my family and friends and extended families and worldwide friends.
I understand that many of the people in my life are angry. And there may be more in the coming weeks, and that's okay. I understand and I WILL listen, when and if they want to talk and express their feelings.
Around this time, three weeks ago, I was in my bedroom, curled up in the fetal position, crying. By the early dawn on Easter Sunday morning, I was in my bathtub, frenzied, lost, and under the darkest cloud I've ever experienced. The meds, I purposelyfully and willfully took to aid me in my attempt made me drowsy--(sidebar: Part of recovery for me is accepting responsiblilty--part of the forgiveness process)--
....and after I--with a purpose and will that came from I do not know where,-- had finished laying the ground work for my blood to leave my body. (Again, trying to be respectful to peoples personal experiences..)
My hands were in the water underneath my body.
It's insane I know---but from my diagnosis of Depression (by naming it, I take away it's power OVER me--thnxs J.K.R) --see, humour is possible *insider* The Bridge C...:P
.....In those moments before I was found...I was...gone. I--was replaced by this dark, gloomy, desolate man, determined to........end it.
Here's a somewhat morbid thought I had...."statiscally" speaking, men who attempt Sui Cide use razors, women who attempt take pills..."statistically" women succeed......makes you think, whose "resolve" is greater--odd way of saying, "I admire the strength of Women."
The exception to these "facts" may be, as I've recently learned, with the folks who make their way to the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, and jump. I admire anyone---bear with me--with the WILL to climb XX number of heights, and jump to their death. What I've decided to do is reverse it...change the WILL, change the Man, Person, Human Being.
Which brings me to the real purpose of this piece....to be blunt and forthcoming about Depression. To be honest and open about my actions of late and to accept responsibility for the affects//effects of that choice.
To offer my story, as an example of finding your "KEY" to unlock whatever it is putting you at "dis-ease", if anything at all, ...the energy and will is there, just make it work for you. You can lift yourself up and out of whatever is bringing you "dis-ease."
I am in a good place now and I know my road to a full recovery is a bit down ways.
I am afraid to forget but I am willing to forgive.
I must.
But part of me doesn't want to forget....a reminder and a way to look for signs in others.
Thnxs. xo
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