About a month ago that’s exactly what I said to myself . Depression rearing it’s ugly head again the beast was back . The struggle was just too much to bear . The day , the week , the month had not gone well . It was becoming obvious to me I was about to hit the wall . The pain in my chest was ominous . I knew it , the train was coming but I could not get off the tracks . I just wanted to sleep it off . Or maybe I just didn’t want to wake up again . My usual dose didn’t cut it , my head spinning out of control . One more pill I told myself , just one more and I’ll just sleep it off . I’ve had this feeling before . This time however the thought of not waking up was actually satisfying in some way . One more pill I told myself again and again and again . I honestly lost count and as a drifted into nothingness , I was praying it would be enough to end my suffering . I don’t think I was trying to end my life but at the same time I welcomed the outcome . Needles to say my sorrow ...
Wow, a comment.. so much to say.. At first I felt by reading these postings I was invading your privacy in the worst way.. reading your most intimate and personal thoughts and feelings. I know you post them for exactly that purpose but I couldnt help feeling bad in a way. Although I will admit that once I started reading I couldnt stop. So intense, intuitive.. so well written. All along asking myself why someone such as yourself with so much to tell hasnt yet written an autobiography, a detailed memoir with these intimate life details. I would definitely read.
ReplyDeleteI am particulary interested in your art work. I myself sketch and draw. I have always enjoyed my time with my sketch pad, my art.. my world. I love that from a peice of art you can say so many things, and that whom ever chooses to look can draw their own conclusion and maybe see something totally different but equally as meaningful. I would love to see other peices you have worked on if you wouldnt mind sharing.
In final, I think you son is an amazing kid, not to mention lucky. I have unfortunately seen many cicumstances where kids have not one parent who cares.. you may not live with him, but it sounds to me like hes more then well aware about how you feel about him.
I hope you keep writing, It seems to be cathartic to you.. as art is to me, I know how important it is to have a release, and to embrace it.
Take Care
Thank you anonymous, you are totally within your right to read anything I write, as, I have given you and everyone permission to delve into my private thoughts. I have used this public medium for such a reason. And to answer your question, yes! I have thought about writing a memoir someday, you see, my story has yet to be told. What you have read in this public forum is merely a fraction of my life. When I started to write what I was feeling, I truly believed that the level of interest would be low. Who cares what this “stranger, as I feel I am" has to say? I write, well basically, to unload. You see my mind is heavy, heavy with the burden of life. (My life).I never thought that, the interest in my words would be such as it is. At times I feel like I am nothing more than a spec of sand in the hourglass of time, and truly insignificant. I write because I have to. I have to alleviate the load somehow. I thank you and all the other readers for allowing me this outlet.
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