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wMonday, November 20, 2006 |
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I don't know what to say, Sarah. Except I had a friend commit suicide two Februarys ago, and it affected me more tremendously than I ever thought it would. Not because we were close and she loved me unconditionally, like your dear friend did you. But because I didn't have a clue as to the depths of her distress. I could have called her on her birthday, I could have given her another day of hope, another voice of someone she knew was out there. I could have been a better friend and reached out to know her more. But I had no idea. And the scary thing is, it could be any one of us with all these demons bottled up inside, it could even be me, and we have no idea because, well not because we don't listen enough, but because we just cannot hear what another is thinking if they do not tell us. Sure, there are signs. But the minister said we were not to blame ourselves for not being there more. Not to think what if, what could I have done differently. Not to be too sad because she was full of laughter when she was happy, and when she wasn't, then the depression just became too great for one human being to withstand. And at the time, I thought more than anything, what if it had been me? What if I had been sitting there alone and imploding with this intense turmoil and didn't know how to find the light at the end of the tunnel? Who would I turn to? Who would find me and save me and know that I needed help? I cried more there at my friend's funeral than at my own father's funeral. I cried at her funeral for her, and I cried for my father, and I cried for her parents, and I cried for her sister talking up there at the podium. And I pictured my own sister speaking about me, up there, not knowing what to say and not having any idea that I had been that tortured inside. And I cried for all the sad people in all of the world who don't think there's any other way out of the darkness. At my father's funeral I couldn't cry because I had to be strong for my family. Or so I thought. So it just opened the flood gates last February, and the years of emotions and pent-up sorrow just came pouring out, as I sat in the back of the pews by myself, hoping nobody was staring at me and judging me, thinking to themselves about me and her "Why is she crying? They weren't even that good of friends." Because it was for the loss of all life that I wept for on that day. It was definitely the feeling of hopelessness and helplessness above everything else that was repressed and released out of me that day. I can't feel your pain exactly, losing such a good friend in such a tragic way. But I can feel your pain in a different sort of way, losing a friend, losing someone to suicide, losing a father to cancer. And it scares me many times over. And I have to keep telling myself, as I tell you: Don't give up hope. Don't lose faith.
"Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God."
-- Aeschylus
I cried more during my father's illness, at the onset mostly, when we found out about the cancer. And then there was a time of hope amongst the remission. And then I cried more again later after we found out the severity of the returning cancer. I let myself experience my loss then, at the time of the illness, rather than waiting till the finality of his death. I went through the phases of denial/acceptance whatnot through the entire process of his sickness, so when time for the actual funeral came, I was just going through the motions on auto-pilot, making the arrangements, being strong for my mother. You, however, were not allowed that grieving period, that time to say good-bye, that time to spend what precious moments you have left with another human being that you can choose to spend because you know that time is precious, that the time left is short. You woke up one day, and he was gone. And that is why now, you, me, everyone, must live life to the fullest. That is why you never go to sleep mad at a lover. That is why you never walk away from someone while saying mean things because you may never ever be able to take those cruel words back.
I didn't talk to my friends for quite a while, and if you know me, you know I'm rather a social person. I had to decompress. Sit at home. Watch movies. Cry alone. Lie in my room with Miss Kitty. Unleash my grief into a journal. Take a filmmaking class. Distract myself with long excursions at HEB and the library. Not drink at all. Try to sleep when I could. Go through the motions at work. Survive.
"Sitting silently, doing nothing, spring comes and the grass grows by itself."
I watched a sappy movie last night, but the words rang true: "You did not lose your control. You did not lose your freedom. You lost your illusions of the world and the idea that you were ever in control." It IS a scary and unpredictable place, and those thoughts frighten me every day. I have this fear of loss that is almost insurmountable. I have plenty of acquaintances, but few very close close friends. Few who know everything about me. And this impending fear of loss, too, has always been a detriment to whatever dating situation I may encounter. I have never been horribly dumped or truly betrayed, so the true root of this problem is still rather a mystery to me. One origin could be the fact that we moved around a lot while I was growing up. So getting attached to someone then having to leave them quite soon after became a ritual I had to become accustomed to. And this reality either allows one to develop deep personal relationships very quickly and permanently, or, in my case, caused me to float around in life and realize that we're all just drifting, and knowing that if I attach myself to anyone or anything, it definitely will soon be gone, because that is just a way of life. Everything must end. The existentialist in me would take over. So why bother? Such a horrible term that would fly out of my mouth too easily. Why bother? Why bother to make lasting and life-changing relationships with the people around you? Is it really better to have loved and lost than to have never have loved at all? At some times, I really don't know. When the pain is so great, one tends to think, no, loss is not better. When given the choice between feeling nothing and feeling pain, which would you choose? Why bother..? Because that is what life is made of. All we have are our connections with other human beings. And if these connections and relationships we create don’t matter, then I don’t know what I’m doing here on planet earth.
What you think you create
What you feel you attract
What you imagine you become
I'll tell you one thing NOT to do: do not listen to Radiohead - Kid A. Well you can. I have an entry here from a day before the funeral, and this is before knowing it was a suicide yet. We had only been informed that she had passed away. Still, the grief was building even then:
Feb 7, 2005 - When you don't know how you're supposed to feel...
(Scroll down to Feb 7, 2005)
DO get cheesy & read some Richard Bach: Illusions or Jonathan Livingston Seagull.
DO wake up early on a Saturday morning and go to the Austin Farmer's Market. Try new things, break your routine, go places you've never been before. Call up old friends, reconnect with family, meet new people.
We're thinking of going to this tomorrow [The Small Stars at Hyde Park Theatre], if you'd be interested in joining, please do. As a friend, I've become a decent listener to some subjects others might find too difficult to discuss. And I've also become a good hospital companion over the past few years, if one ever needs to hold a hand at a hospital bedside. I've found strengths I've never ever known I had. I've also found weaknesses that run much deeper than I could have ever imagined. But that's what makes us human. Vulnerable, yet destined for survival. Perfectly flawed. Achingly beautiful.
I think the reason I started writing entries back in October 2002 was because I finally needed to just start getting sad stuff off my chest, and there was no one to listen to me, or no one I felt comfortable leaning on. So I just wrote to myself. To keep myself sane. No one really reads my blog, I don't post regularly at all, it has just always been there more for me to release some of those thoughts so they don't bottle up. Sometimes to keep the sadness out of overwhelming my everyday life. Other times to express my utmost joy. Write it all down. And listen to disco music. When youre ready. Re-reading all this, you're really taking me back. And I guess the most important thing I see, is don't forget them. Even when people are gone from your life, don't let them disappear from your memory.
Here are a couple of Bowie songs to get you through the day. Also, I'll burn you Kid A if you don't already own it. Cuz you really should own it.
It Ain't Easy (mp3)
Rock 'N Roll Suicide (mp3)
Oh no love! you're not alone
You're watching yourself but you're too unfair
You got your head all tangled up but if I could only make you care
Oh no love, you're not alone
No matter what or who you've been
No matter when or where you've seen
All the knives seem to lacerate your brain
I've had my share, I'll help you with the pain
You're not alone
Just turn on with me and you're not alone
Let's turn on and be not alone
Gimme your hands cause you're wonderful
You're wonderful
Gimme your hands!
(This is probably my all-time favorite song.)
--
Happy Thanksgiving. The holidays are hard, too, so that doesn't help. As are the gray days and the nights that are dark by 5pm. So here's one more song that will leave you thinking happy thoughts and remind you to be thankful:
Be Thankful for What You've Got (mp3)
Everything WILL be okay. Everything will always be the way it is meant to be.
--
thank your lucky stars for everything in your life.
everything happens for a reason, and everything doesn't happen for a reason.
you draw you write you play you eat you drink you dance
you laugh you smile you cry
you live
take care. i'm thinking of you. and i know you are in many others' thoughts as well.
-jill
My father passed away November 23, 2002. It falls on Thanksgiving Day this year. All I can do, is be there for my mother...even though at times she gets so sad it's almost unbearable. I exude strength and confidence and joy, and I let down my guard later. Alone. Hang in there.
--
(I wrote this quickly, so please forgive my misspellings and/or misuse of some words. I just wanted to get it out there quickly, to let you know that you are not alone. We are all here alone. But we really don't have to be.)
posted by
zenbetty at 4:06 PM
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