Jumping Realities
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/news/news.html?in_article_id=565137&in_page_id=1770
First I just want to start by saying that I hope Christian escaped his demons, and that I admire him for trying to understand suicide before I gripped him so tightly. R.I.P.
Secondly, I want to add that when I read this story, I felt like I understood some of the reason I am so intruiged by suicide - I think it's the concept of the mystery of death. It's not that I want to commit suicide myself, I always thought that was how I would leave the world, on my own terms, but then I realised a couple of things. One is a question - Is suicide really a weak way out if you know that the demons your trying to escape from are never going to leave? And if this is the case, wouldn't it be good to look back and say 'it was a good run' and then depart knowing that the times you had were the best, and that in leaving now you won't taint the good memories? But then I thought, hold on, then your dead, there are no memories. There are no second chances, unless you believe in reincarnation, but I understand that some people would be far too scared in their own life to believe a second chance wouldn't just be more hell for them.
A counsellor once said to me about relationships that in order to leave the relationship, the pain of staying in it must outweight the pain of leaving it. It's human nature to go with the least painful option. If a relationship is simply leaving ONE person behind, then the pain behind people who choose suicide must be incredible. I know, I have been there before and I've written about it and it's strange to say that now I'm here living the life I am, I feel like no matter how depressed I get, I wouldn't get that low again because I've seen things worth sticking around for. I think it's incredibly sad that there are people who have only gone down and just have no idea what its like to be back up again. Like I said the other night, you forget what its like to be in the sun because the clouds are just so thick, and its all you know. Instead of having a bright life with dark patches, you have a dark life with black holes pinpricking the sky above you. It's a sad existence, and the whole time I'm writing this I'm trying to imagine what was going through Christians head. I think that photography project he was doing was amazing, because although they would seem like just pictures of a landscape or a bridge or a building to most people, when you know what they are they are amazingly powerful cornerstones in the lives of people who didn't want to have one anymore. They're an escape route for people who have lost their way in the world and followed the last remaining path in their mind to that point.
I feel like I needed to write all that to show to myself that I see that I'm not there. I might write when I am most depressed, because thats the times I want to unload and feel better. That same counsellor also said to me that I'm very, very aware of myself which is something I definitely could not disagree with, but I also know that it's being so self-aware that made me so low in the first place.
I remember that one day when I was living with Glen at Kelly's house and I lost it after Glen said something to me, and all I wanted to do was destroy myself, for lack of a better explanation. All I had to my name was in my room, and I remember just being so angry, and throwing everything outside. I didn't care if I broke it, I just remember making a huge mess of the lawn, and when I was ashamed enough that everything I had was reduced to a broken pile on someone elses backlawn in a strange town, I went for a walk and came back only to find Glen had gone out there and picked it all back up for me. So I threw it out there again, because he was the last person I wanted to look after me. And then I picked it all up, and it took me hours of crying and sorting and sitting outside in the dark getting the worst ever mosquito bites I've had and then I decided to change everything, and move cities and start again and that's what I did. Don't know why I retold that story, seemed like a good thing to do when I started but it kinda went nowhere, haha. I think it's me showing that I was sick of wearing down slowly and just wanted to damn well get to the bottom of myself, so to speak, so I could make my way back up. Everyone knows that when you're at the bottom there's no way but up. I guess I liked the security of the bottom for a few hours instead of just feeling like I was constantly falling.
God my hair smells good today, thank god for new shampoo and conditioner.
Thanks for James and Josh for reading all this by the way, I always said that noone would read my diaries but I think letting you guys do that has helped me in so many more ways :) And thanks to Al for making me feel like I have a future. Weird as that sounds. Not that he reads these, but I wanna thank him anyway. Right, better get back to work.
First I just want to start by saying that I hope Christian escaped his demons, and that I admire him for trying to understand suicide before I gripped him so tightly. R.I.P.
Secondly, I want to add that when I read this story, I felt like I understood some of the reason I am so intruiged by suicide - I think it's the concept of the mystery of death. It's not that I want to commit suicide myself, I always thought that was how I would leave the world, on my own terms, but then I realised a couple of things. One is a question - Is suicide really a weak way out if you know that the demons your trying to escape from are never going to leave? And if this is the case, wouldn't it be good to look back and say 'it was a good run' and then depart knowing that the times you had were the best, and that in leaving now you won't taint the good memories? But then I thought, hold on, then your dead, there are no memories. There are no second chances, unless you believe in reincarnation, but I understand that some people would be far too scared in their own life to believe a second chance wouldn't just be more hell for them.
A counsellor once said to me about relationships that in order to leave the relationship, the pain of staying in it must outweight the pain of leaving it. It's human nature to go with the least painful option. If a relationship is simply leaving ONE person behind, then the pain behind people who choose suicide must be incredible. I know, I have been there before and I've written about it and it's strange to say that now I'm here living the life I am, I feel like no matter how depressed I get, I wouldn't get that low again because I've seen things worth sticking around for. I think it's incredibly sad that there are people who have only gone down and just have no idea what its like to be back up again. Like I said the other night, you forget what its like to be in the sun because the clouds are just so thick, and its all you know. Instead of having a bright life with dark patches, you have a dark life with black holes pinpricking the sky above you. It's a sad existence, and the whole time I'm writing this I'm trying to imagine what was going through Christians head. I think that photography project he was doing was amazing, because although they would seem like just pictures of a landscape or a bridge or a building to most people, when you know what they are they are amazingly powerful cornerstones in the lives of people who didn't want to have one anymore. They're an escape route for people who have lost their way in the world and followed the last remaining path in their mind to that point.
I feel like I needed to write all that to show to myself that I see that I'm not there. I might write when I am most depressed, because thats the times I want to unload and feel better. That same counsellor also said to me that I'm very, very aware of myself which is something I definitely could not disagree with, but I also know that it's being so self-aware that made me so low in the first place.
I remember that one day when I was living with Glen at Kelly's house and I lost it after Glen said something to me, and all I wanted to do was destroy myself, for lack of a better explanation. All I had to my name was in my room, and I remember just being so angry, and throwing everything outside. I didn't care if I broke it, I just remember making a huge mess of the lawn, and when I was ashamed enough that everything I had was reduced to a broken pile on someone elses backlawn in a strange town, I went for a walk and came back only to find Glen had gone out there and picked it all back up for me. So I threw it out there again, because he was the last person I wanted to look after me. And then I picked it all up, and it took me hours of crying and sorting and sitting outside in the dark getting the worst ever mosquito bites I've had and then I decided to change everything, and move cities and start again and that's what I did. Don't know why I retold that story, seemed like a good thing to do when I started but it kinda went nowhere, haha. I think it's me showing that I was sick of wearing down slowly and just wanted to damn well get to the bottom of myself, so to speak, so I could make my way back up. Everyone knows that when you're at the bottom there's no way but up. I guess I liked the security of the bottom for a few hours instead of just feeling like I was constantly falling.
God my hair smells good today, thank god for new shampoo and conditioner.
Thanks for James and Josh for reading all this by the way, I always said that noone would read my diaries but I think letting you guys do that has helped me in so many more ways :) And thanks to Al for making me feel like I have a future. Weird as that sounds. Not that he reads these, but I wanna thank him anyway. Right, better get back to work.