the unsuicidal's thoughts of martyrdom
though i am not currently suicidal, i cannot deny a certain preoccupation with the idea of death. the idea of exposing my pain - the pain often dismissed and mocked by others - as the red pooling and hot liquid that it is... the raw flaps of now useless skin exposing the rips and tears within.
i often wonder why i don't do it.
even when i am relatively happy and interested in life...
i still wonder if that IS how i will eventually leave this earth...
by my own pain
via my own hand.
will i fill a bathtub with a red mess
or will i lay pale on a white, perfect for contrast, tile floor?
and it is in these little reveries that i learn what keeps me here; what binds me to this body of death...
yes, it is part my healthy desire to seek life getting stronger
and yes, it is also very much my fear of missing out on God's best and the rest found only within His arms in heaven...
but sometimes what keeps me here is guilt.
how can i make a family endure my death?
how can i leave them heartbroken, lost and angry?
how can i force this family to endure the very same pain they force me to endure by asking me to live?
i live because they would call me selfish.
i sacrifice my peace so save theirs.
yet none of them ever acknowledged
that perhaps THEY are selfish...
that they are asking me to remain in despair and disconnect
just so they don't have to experience for themselves, the very same thing.
i often wonder why i don't do it.
even when i am relatively happy and interested in life...
i still wonder if that IS how i will eventually leave this earth...
by my own pain
via my own hand.
will i fill a bathtub with a red mess
or will i lay pale on a white, perfect for contrast, tile floor?
and it is in these little reveries that i learn what keeps me here; what binds me to this body of death...
yes, it is part my healthy desire to seek life getting stronger
and yes, it is also very much my fear of missing out on God's best and the rest found only within His arms in heaven...
but sometimes what keeps me here is guilt.
how can i make a family endure my death?
how can i leave them heartbroken, lost and angry?
how can i force this family to endure the very same pain they force me to endure by asking me to live?
i live because they would call me selfish.
i sacrifice my peace so save theirs.
yet none of them ever acknowledged
that perhaps THEY are selfish...
that they are asking me to remain in despair and disconnect
just so they don't have to experience for themselves, the very same thing.