Health & Fitness, Simple Living

Today I Contemplated Suicide

I lay on my front in the bath, watching the languid dance of soap, swirling through water – a dance who’s climax was a grey, cloudy stillness. And as the steam rose and the water cooled, so too did my thoughts. Turned inwards, they travelled the road behind me, criticising the choices I’d made, ridiculing any dreams I still harboured and mocking the future, I’d tentatively stitched together.

All seemed bleak then, in that cold white room. The flaking paint on the door frames and watery streaks on the pallid tiles, a reminder that I could never live up to expectations, that a job once started, was hardly ever finished. I had failed in so many ways and would forever continue to disappoint.

And so I stared at the murky water, and imagined plunging my head beneath its surface, opening my mouth and breathing in deep lungfuls of the stuff. They say that drowning is a horrible way to die, but right then, it seemed a fitting end for someone, who drowned in her own inadequacy on a daily basis.

It was also entirely selfish.

I struggle yes. Some days seem hopeless – like being trapped in a dark well, with smooth sides and no escape. I shun the world because I fear the consequences of being part of it – the rejection, the awkwardness of chance encounters, the hate and the dislike.

Then there are days when the sun shines like a beacon, and my face, mind and skin is warmed. My heart becomes full, my burdens lightened and the beauty that I brought into the world, shown in its full majesty.

Three small, precious lives.

With stiff limbs and shivering breath, I pulled myself from the that still and lifeless tub, wrapping my thoughts, like my body, in the dry, towelling comfort, of lasting another day. And instead of inwards, I sent my thoughts outwards, to consider the possibility of what it might be like on the other side of recovery.

 

“Much have I travelled in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen,
But still I long to learn
tales, marvellous tales,
Of ships and stars and isles where good men rest,
How others fought to forge my world.
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? What wild ecstasy?
How far the unknown transcends the what we know.
We are the music-makers, And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Step forward,
To feel the blood run through the veins and tingle
Where busy thought and blind sensation mingle.
Come, my friends, ’tis not too late,
For we are the movers and shakers
Of the worlds, forever it seems;
To strive, to seek, to find and not to yield.”

This is a Canto put together for BBC Two Trails by Alison Chilsolm

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Filed under: Health & Fitness, Simple Living

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Stacey's a Social Media Community Manager by day and a self-confessed Geek by night. With boy/girl twins and an older son, she's got mum hacks coming out of her ears. Likes: overpopulated book shelves and shiny things. Dislikes: wearing socks.

19 Comments

  1. Sounds like a bleak encounter my dear. So glad you focused on those three little people in your life. I replied to your comment. I think you should let me and little man come and help you set up a nice veg patch in your garden xx

    • How could I refuse such an offer? I’ve actually been looking into popping into the Hub on the Green. I didn’t even know it existed! Once I get over the whole ‘shunning the world’ thing, it sounds like a nice place to get social.

      • Ah yes the hub is a very lovely place! We are only free on Fridays due to J’s appointments but would love to meet up when you are ready x

        • And also was thinking have you heard of Homestart? They might be a good free service for you to give a bit of help once a week perhaps? Have a google if you don’t know them. They are in twitter land too x

          • I have heard of them yes, but I’m not sure they operate here. I’m off to the Children’s Centre next Thursday for a PND assessment, so I will definitely ask about it when I’m there, as I know they deal with that kind of thing. It would certainly be a huge help when OH gets full-time work, as that’s when I struggle the most.

      • Just jumping into this thread to say that I’m quite jealous of your possible veg patch. Can’t wait for the limbo of house moving to be over so we can have a go of this too.

          • We’re more than ready for something with a garden. The upstairs flat is lovely but it’s just the wrong shape.
            We’re thinking of moving somewhere Monkseaton way, big gardens, still within walking distance of the beach and still enough rooms for us. Fingers crossed it happens soon.

  2. Oh sweetie, such a lot to deal with, but at no point was any of it selfish, sometimes things are just too much, but you found something to live for, that’s what you need to hang on to.

    • Thank you Amanda. I very nearly deleted that post after publishing it, but then I thought, no, it can stay there as a reminder of what I *didn’t* do.

  3. Ranni says

    I have family who will tell you there is nothing I can’t do. They refer to me as Super Woman and mean it. I’ll tell you how wrong that is, how much I fail daily, how I don’t measure up. It took me a long time to understand how those who knew me best saw such a different picture of me than I did. The expectations that I fail belong to me. I set them too high because I thought others expected that much of me.

    They don’t.

    When I look at myself I see things no one else can, things I impose (unfairly) upon myself. I thought, for years, that’s how others see me but it doesn’t work that way. I went years refusing to look in the mirror because I didn’t want to see those things staring back at me. When I realized fully what I’d been doing I bought a full length mirror and hung it in my bathroom. I have so much work to do on myself, so many things I need to improve. But I see the possibilities now and when I fail, as much as I hate it, I’m learning (trying to learn really) to brush it off. Tomorrow’s a new day and I don’t have to be perfect. I imagine I’d be rather boring if I were perfect.

    I’ll tell you something else. My biggest life lesson right now is learning to say ‘I need help’ whether it’s with laundry or just someone to listen to me blather about what scares me. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, asking for help, and it still makes me feel a little bit of a weakling, but I’m getting there. You’re a work in progress, too, with failures and successive. It’s how life works for all of us. Please don’t think you’re alone or it’s just you. (hugs)

    • Ranni, you always seem to be the voice of reason. I don’t know you very well, except that I appreciate the time you take to share your experiences with me, and I do take a lot away from what you say.

      You’re right though – asking for help is once of the hardest things. Sometimes it’s like admitting to yourself that you really can’t, do everything, despite feeling like you should. I guess I have to take it one step at a time, slow and steady.

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  5. MummyNeverSleeps says

    Oh dude, I sympathise I do, I get the same feeling from time to time, I see it as more of a positive thing in a morbid way! Of a “actually no, sod that, I AM gonna flipping do this.” If anything it kicks me up the arse, a reminder of what I don’t want to be anymore…

    I’m glad you’re feeling better now xx

    • Yeah I think that’s what was going on then. *I* know that I never would go through with anything like that, but it doesn’t stop the thoughts from cropping up now and then.

  6. Inner reflection is hard to keep positive sometimes. The important part is that you got up and you kept going.
    The past is the past, it’s done and can’t be changed. You’ve got a bright future with three wonderful children and a fantastically creative mind. There’s so many adventures yet to have but you know that.

    If you ever need to talk I’m here, far away in location but just around the corner on the phone or email.

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