A Plea Against Suicide

Good afternoon, readers. I hope you’re prepared for a more serious post. At work today, I was told an extremely heartbreaking story about someone’s friend who just killed herself, and no one knew she had any unhappiness in her life. I know it’s not suicide awareness month, and I know this is something that gets spread around a lot, but it really can’t be stressed enough. Please talk to someone if you’re feeling depressed, hurt, lost. Please find that one person who you can bear your soul to. It cannot only save your life but also somebody else’s.

I know it’s hard. I know you want to seem happy and perfect because that’s what social media wants. And it’s so easy to put on a mask. I know it feels good to hide behind that mask because you’re afraid to even look at yourself in the mirror because you don’t know who you are anymore. I know how much effort it takes to pretend like you have everything going right in your life, and by the end of the day, you’re so exhausted you dread the next day. And the day after that. And every day after. I know how hard it is to be completely vulnerable with someone because you’re afraid of how they’ll look at you when you’re done explaining yourself.

I know it’s hard. I know you don’t want to talk to someone because you’re afraid you’ll only burden them with your problems. Let me tell you. Out of all the people I’ve talked to in my life, there’s always been at least one person who’s never pushed me away because of my feelings. It wasn’t always the person who I thought it would be, but there is always someone. Because you’ll be more of a burden to them once you’re gone. Because they will blame themselves for your death. They’ll wonder why they couldn’t see your sorrow and torture themselves with what they could’ve done and what could’ve been.

I know you want to say it doesn’t matter because the sun will still rise, and the stars will still shine. Maybe they will. But the ones who loved you will never look at them the same way again because their eyes will be red and dry from the amount of crying they’ll never be over. I know you want to tell yourself no one cares because no one understands. When in all reality, they have no idea because you’re pushing them away so they’ll be happy. I know the demons taunt you every waking moment of your day. I know the darkness spins inviting lies to join it.

I know it’s hard. I know you think things will be better for everyone if you’re gone. But things will only be worse. Heaven may have another angel, but Earth will be without one, and we need all the angels we can get on this rock. I know it sounds easy just to rid this place of yourself. I know you think it’s convenient. But it’s not. No matter what you think, you’ll be robbing at least one person of someone they love. You’ll be robbing yourself of a chance for an amazing life where you could help someone who’s going through the exact same thing you are now.

Humans aren’t as unique as we think. We all suffer from the same type of things; we just need to reach out to someone. To anyone. Please reach out. Find that one person you know you can trust and ask them for a few minutes of their time. They will give it to you. Someone will be there. You’re not alone with your feelings and thoughts. You’re never alone.

I know it’s hard. I really do. I’ve been through the same things. I’ve been diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I’ve been on the meds. I’ve spent years crying myself to sleep every night. I’ve cut myself. I held knives close to my heart. I’ve wrapped my fingers around the handle of a gun. I’ve prepared myself to run my vehicle off the road and into a body of water. I’ve sat with a concoction of pills. I know what’s it’s like because I’ve been there.

And I didn’t magically get better. I didn’t correct myself overnight. It does take time. But I promise you, it does get better. I get to see that sun rise every morning with my own eyes. I get to see the stars shine even through the blackest night. It takes time. It takes patience and understanding with yourself. Every time I’m in a lowest of lows, I tell myself I don’t want anyone to feel the way I feel. That if anyone feels this way, all I want to do is help them. Be there for them, be a shoulder to cry on, just be a listener. Because all we need sometimes is for someone to listen. We need that reassurance we’re not alone. You’re not alone. I promise you; you’re not alone. So please.

Please find someone who you can talk to. Even if it’s just one person. Forget the masks. Forget this idea you need to portray yourself as perfect. Forget everything except yourself. Take care of yourself. Don’t let you be beaten by you. Find someone. And live.

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Winds of Change

I want to start this Memoir Monday off by saying I may be a tad more emotional than normal because I’m currently in pain, and I don’t deal with pain well. (I have severe chronic migraines, and I’m currently dealing with one.) However, the topic of change is one I’ve been thinking about for some time now.

We all face change, whether we want to or not. It can be good; it can be bad. Life can be boiled down to change and learning how to deal with said change. Often times, how we decide to deal with it shapes who we ultimately become. Depression and anxiety comes from change but so can happiness and joy.

Recently, I’ve been having to prepare myself for changes I’m not quite sure what to do with. I have a history of not dealing with change well. At all. As much as I like spontaneity in my life, I also like things a certain way. I get rather upset when something doesn’t fit into my pre-made mold of how I think my life should be. It’s a daily struggle.

I also have a habit of being a control freak. And we all know change isn’t something we can control. Not usually, anyway. Even if we can control how we react to it. Typically, I don’t control my own emotions about it; I just react then deal with the consequences later. Which generally makes everything worse.

While I will do a section on family some time, I just wanted to say now that I’ve always been close to my family, even though we’ve gone through times where we’ve had our differences. I had my teenage moments. My parents will attest to that. However, we were still close. Especially my sister and I. Which all changed, of course, when I got married and moved out three years ago. I’m still dealing with it.

However, depending on how certain events transpire, more change will come. And no matter how much I tell myself I’m ready for it, I’m not. Over the past three years, I feel like all I’ve done is become distant from my family. I feel like I don’t know them anymore or I’m not a part of my family anymore. Which I know are lies made up by my mind, but I still can’t help but wonder. Like I said, I don’t deal with change well, and I’m afraid everything will become even more distant, more…alien.

And this type of change isn’t just happening with my family. It’s been happening with friends I originally thought I was close to. Either my life has changed, or their life has changed, and we’ve become distant. They say things about me they’ve used to never say. I’m finding I don’t know them as well as I used to, same with my family. I don’t know why.

With all this happening around the same time, I can’t help but wonder one thing: have I changed as a person, and is that change bad, since I feel so disconnected from everything? I know we all go through shifts in our personalities as we age, but I don’t feel like I’ve had one in a while. Perhaps that’s my problem. Or am I going through a change in my personality right now and not realizing it? I honestly couldn’t tell you.

I feel like I’m at a loss about everything. I’m afraid to embrace any type of change that may be happening, and that’s most likely the root of my problems. I’m keeping myself stuck in the same rut because I’m afraid to move forward. And I’m afraid to move forward because I’m afraid the looming changes are going to rip away everyone I care about. Even if they’re already slowly slipping through my fingers. I just don’t foresee the changes bringing anyone closer to me.

Again, I can’t tell if it’s because I’ve changed as a person, or if I’m in the middle of changing. I’m afraid, and I just want things to be like they’ve always been.

The Drop

The drop cascades down the pane
Reflection twin keeping casual time
A trail marking what has been
A trail etching through the grime
The drop glistens in yellowed light
Sliding at its idiosyncratic pace
Plunging into gravity’s delight
Until it’s halted at the window base
The drop’s sibling runs its course
Tracing a new lane in the dust
Both derived from a singular source
Both trickling with a sense of hush
The drop and its brother united at last
Resting upon the degenerating sill
Reminiscing about their turbulent past
Reminiscing about when they lost their will
The drop soon merged with fallen others
Amalgamating into a tell-tale pool
Remnants of life from within another
Slaughtered by a presumptuious fool
Hundred of drops cascade down the pane
Several leaving an unpleasant smudge
The window splattered with crimson rain
Dishonest glass riddled with fresh blood

Turn Back Time

If I could turn back time
Would I find a way
To say
Everything I meant to say
If I could rewind the clocks
Would I actually argue
To do
Everything I meant to do
If I could travel into the past
Would I make a decree
To see
Everything I meant to see

But then…
Would I make the choice
To turn back the time
And live the rest of my life
In a state of constant rewind

Bones of Saints

A long forgotten marker
From a less memorable time
Weathered by sun and storm
Stone covered in lichen
The symbol barely visible
None know of the secrets beneath
A labyrinth tomb kept away
Hidden from prying eyes
Safe from hands of theft
Though no riches lie below
Only the broken remains of souls
Yellowed bones with chips and marks
Lifeless forms etched with runes
Their story never to be told
Of the day the world collectively bled
Of the day ancient evil awoke
Water and sky became crimson
And no mortal dared stopping it
None except a courageous few
They gathered from around the globe
Uniting as brothers under a common banner
It took the lives of every one
To send the evil asunder
A mutual defeat of both sides
Darkness dragging the men underground
So their legend could never live on
So their names could never be praised
To this day no one can fathom
What transpired so long ago
But the earth will always remember
What was done to save it
That’s why if forever preserves
These deserving bones of saints

A Spider in My Garden

There was a spider in my garden
And I’m terrified of spiders
As everyone typically knows
So I did what anyone would do
I tried drowning it with the hose

Now this spider in my garden
It must’ve been a special kind
It absolutely refused to drown
You see, it clung for dear life
Not letting me put it down

The spider that was in my garden
Made me wonder about some things
Humans also cling dearly to life
Not so different from the spider
Holding on even during strife

We are the spider in my garden
We are a persistent species
Building legacies and homes
Not taking our last breath
Until that designated time comes

There’s still a spider in my garden
Even though I don’t like it
As long as it leaves me be
I’ll leave it to survive
Because living is the key

The Abandoned Light

Abandoned stairs

The sky turned a gray he had never seen before, causing the forest to dim; something inside him whispered to find shelter. His eyes scanned the moss-covered trees. He paused. Fully turned in all directions.

He didn’t know this part of the woods.

An over-grown trail led west. He almost missed it, it hadn’t been used in so long. Moving branches and foliage out of his way, he traversed in silence. In fact, this whole region of the forest was quiet. Not a single animal or insect sounded their respective calls.

He stopped. A set of stone stairs lay before him, leading to a black doorway. His heart raced. Causing him to breathe in quicker. Moist earth permeated his nostrils. Putrid algae and decaying trees followed. Then…ash.

Studying the sky once more, he looked back at the door-less entry to a stone building forgotten in time. Left to the clutches of nature. So much so, he hadn’t noticed the rest of the structure at first. And as much as common sense screamed no, something pulled him inside.

His right foot mounted the first step. Dust, leaves, and ash being stirred in who knew how long. He wasn’t positive the staircase wouldn’t crumble beneath his weight. But he had to know what was inside.

He stepped on the second stair.  Then the third, the fourth. Careful to avoid the jagged stone that somehow survived years of the tender care of the elements. Fifth, sixth, seventh. The toe of his hiking boot caught a thick root, sending him down onto the final two steps.

On hands and knees, he lifted his head. The darkness of the doorway was much closer now. He swallowed. Why did he feel so compelled to enter this dilapidated place? Yes, he sought shelter from what he assumed was a storm, but certainly, there was a better place than this.

However, he pushed himself off the wet stone. Wiped his bloody palms on his shorts. Mounted the eighth step. Then the ninth. Finally stood on the landing taken over by fungi and ivy. He still couldn’t determine the building, but he assumed it was an old home. Built so someone could find solace among the silent trees.

One deep breath prepared him to cross the threshold. Two paces, and he was enveloped by the inky blackness. It took three seconds for his eyes to adjust. And in the distance, he saw a light. Light that must’ve streamed through a gaped hole in the ceiling.

He held his breath. Slowly placed one foot in front of the other. The wooden floors creaked and moaned, clearly unhappy about being disturbed. He prayed there were no missing boards.

A wet, acidic stench clogged his throat.

The ray of light was within reach, and he paused. Thick particles floated in the air. What had he been breathing in? The ancient debris of this abandoned home? It seemed like something more. He coughed and choked, stepping into the light to see if he hawked anything up.

A surge pulsed from the stream of light.

This part of the forest returning to its undisturbed state.

The light had claimed another victim.

And added more ash to its home.