In 2002-3, on a very silent night, I decided I could not bare the sadness that was gripping my throat and soul, and that the world was not a place for me. The idea of ending everything was the closest thing to relief. I took right then the decision , that if I still felt like this in the morning, I would put an end to my life. My mind gave me this frame of time, in an effort to keep me here, when at the same time, it was giving me a way out. Once my decision made, the pain was barely manageable, but less overwhelming.
I then proceeded to think of all the things I would miss. In an effort to test my resolution, or to stop myself. I looked at the toddler in my arms, breastfeeding still, and felt absolutely nothing. Except for a protective instinct that made me cook up a plan on how I would leave her with her godmother, there was no feeling. I was in a black tar, quick sand pit. Thinking of killing yourself may be rare for others but for me it was always a thought that I never ever thought I would cross over and put it into action, especially with a child in tow. But I felt incapable of protecting her, I felt damaged, a thing people used and I stopped existing, inside. I was just a shell and an excuse of an adult, not a human being. This was the first time I had tipped over the blackness, and I could not get out of it. So I left myself be carried away to the source and started thinking that I will not see her grow. Nothing. I wont be there for her wedding. Nothing. I did not feel anything.
And then, I started thinking about it from her point of view, how she would maybe miss me. I doubted it, she was so young and her father already had a girlfriend, she would be fine. I thought of her being told I took my own life and then it hit me that she would feel she was not important enough for me to stay around.
And that’s when I knew, I felt I was drowning, that dying was not an option. If I was going to be dead, it would have to be while I make her lunch, give her a bath, send her off to school, because I had no right to take away her self value.
Fast forward to today. I went through many things after that night that marked the end of my marriage and a new life. Worse things, if you can imagine. Factually worse things. But inside, something was different. I never tipped back to that dark place. I came close a couple of times and looked at the emptiness down below, with envy. Oh to stop the merry go round the endless boredom that is my own story. To stop agonizing, running and fighting.
When I felt inevitably the darkness one more time, years later, defeated, I gave myself a time frame again. A date. My birthday in two years, to name an example. It gave me time to process, it helped me, giving me another "choice".
Feelings are wonderful tools and they help us understand ourselves, and our friends, and the world if we can separate them and see them for what they are. But they are a bad advisor. They are gremlins that we trap inside of us, and they literally kill us, sometimes. Unemployed. Or handicapped. Cheated upon. Or brutalized. By our mother, our husband, our friends, our school. The list of things that can and sometimes go wrong is endless. But what makes a difference in all and everything is how we experience each misfortune. One person could cry for the loss of their marriage, and cheat back, and move on. Or they could sink into depression to the idea that the person close to them, did not even see them during their marriage, and this revelation and adjustment to the world is a painful process. Bitterness may come out of it, or the cheater will be labeled as such and the individual will come out of it wiser, but the same. I learned that our feelings, are the most volatile thing to use when taking decisions. I know, that now, I have the skill to bounce back on my feet if not in a matter of days, in a matter of months. I may have lost my naivete and that joie de vivre to discover, but I also know that humans are basically lost, hurting and go through a process of blind arrogance when young, with a quilt of what they know from home and a few of their own convictions, as a flag, and they hurt people on their way to their own path and disasters. And then, we hurt, and we hurt some more, and again, and we give up, and we stay curled up and feel the world makes no sense. For some its more intense then others. Its not a matter of being dramatic, its a matter of feeling other human beings as yourself. The ego is not there, so the sense of self is more blurred. We are not what we feel, we are not what we think. We are our actions. And our actions can not be based on emotion. We need to take a step back, take a breath. We need to find our identity in this sea of guilt, shame, fear, anxiety, stress, dogmas, cultural and religious backgrounds, we need to differentiate from our beliefs, that were formed in infancy and due to our parents experiences, and remind ourselves we are like a bottle that we drag on the floor, we collect sand, water, pebbles, insects, paper.... we keep things in, but we are not what we have in. We need to empty, and drag some more because our paths have also candy, and wounded butterflies we give shelter to, and diamonds... I am an expat, which complicates a bit this identity thing. I am also on the net a lot, and a moderator. Meaning I attract a little extra on the net, meaning I have to work a little extra regarding my fears as a foreigner in another country. I usually can take it. But sometimes, something happens in my life, and I break. We all do. Then we turn to our support system. I have none. No immediate family, no close friends ( all back home), no boyfriend, no community. And there are reasons for each and every one of these. But the why is not important. The how I deal in controversy is. My support system is my talking about what troubles me. My support system is to be authentic and not be afraid of harassment or bullying or what people think. I know now we all project ourselves to the others and we either like them as long as they play that role, or we dont. We never really see and listen to the others, because that would entail for us to listen and see ourselves and we are not always ready to go that deep when we feel angry or threatened . So we feel irked, or challenged or annoyed by someone who permits himself to act in ways we don’t. Or someone that reminds us of that brat in school. Or ourselves. And we lash out. We mock, we bite, we get a rush of “burning” the other. It’s a game. It’s “I have value because I won this match of words”. It's a projection of our shortcomings, and a diversion of our fears. It is the only way we have to see ourselves.
But, there are real people behind the screen, I don’t even need to remind that, and it's a very boring argument, and an old one. This is not what this text is about. You wont listen anyway. And I can be as ferocious as the next and have been on occasions when I felt attacked. But I know, the poor sap getting it is not really my problem. I know its me, something in me that needs to get out and I do it in a way that will not make me fall apart at that moment. Anger is sometimes the tool of people feeling sadness or fear. It gives them a sense of power. A victim of domestic abuse may not know she is one, because she is fighting back. Sadly, so does a rape victim. I could make a list of the tragedies in my life and create an image out there about me that is not me, and would not be able to control it, or how people respond to it. That is not what interests me, pity and that kind of things is not something that is part of my world. Besides my tragedies and the things done to me are not who I am. How I responded and what I learned could be more relevant. I could pretend everything is cool and fine and keep that precious image of someone with power, and influence, and get the perks of such projection, engaging with people’s hopes and desires and then we both are happy ( when I worked at the newspaper for example, people would ask me to help them and would respect my opinion. In my Bowen therapy practice, people are open about their problems and I get to make them feel better so we both win). I am not interested in roles and image but in substance. Mine. I know I can help and helping helps me. I know I am sensitive and have a lot of things in me that need to heal, and it's an ongoing process that will never really end, but I acquire the tools to cope and to bounce faster, and I offer these solutions to another big heart, my child. I am not interested in cliches, but to get the message out, that it’s not life that sucks, its how we expected it to be, and how it turns out and how fast we learn to deal with it. Its how much freedom you have and allow yourself to speak your truth, regardless of how many this act will disturb. Do not let anyone shut your mouth, do not let shaming or fear or people’s appreciation of you, dictate what you can empty or not from your bottle. Treasures are subjective, anyway. If you got raped, it's something that came in your bottle, it is not you who did it and you should not be defined by someone else’s actions. If you were raised by a crazy abusive person, it is time to empty the bottle and put new things in it. Unless you want to hold on to it a bit longer because at least, you know that thing, it's not a new scary thing that could come in. I get it, take your time. You will let go when you feel ready.
And yes, we do not all travel in sandy beaches, some have a path in dumpsters, but it is a path that is always giving good and bad things and our jobs as humans, is to see what we collect, digest the emotions, express our truth and start over again till we are masters at dealing, and collecting, and pass it on to our children. We need to realize that we only cross paths for a brief time and exchanging what we have, is so precious. Be it a partner, a parent, a boss, a teacher, a therapist, we get to see another collection through our bottle and have the opportunity to learn about things we do not need to go out there and collect. If we only see, hear, and then process what it means for us, if we were in their shoes. The world becomes a less frightening place, with less broken bottles. And then the small support system, family, community , ethnicity, expands. You are not alone. You dont feel alone. And then that date, becomes irrelevant, having no purpose and utility in your life. You can manage. You will deal. You have, you.
