Wedding Bells and Suicide

As the wedding bells begin to ring, it’s natural that the jitters may rumble to the surface. It’s a big event if one decides to move forward with it. There are hopes it will be the first and last but statistics are not even on the fence about that one. From the instant I eagerly posted my announcement of social media I have had a pit in my stomach. This knot has been coiling around my insides and sprouting up in to my throat, making it hard to function as one should. It isn’t just this firm grip on my innards that has me awake at night, unable to rest up for work the next day. It’s what is infesting my mind from the roots of my childhood, like a plague it has come back to fester in the wounds I was still lovingly stitching back together. Suicide.

It appears that now that I have given my voice a platform and basked in the congratulations from friends and family, I am teetering with the idea of death again. On the seesaw I was finally weighing it down and ignoring the monster on the other end… but it’s back with a heavy vengeance. It’s angry I shelved it for so many months and chose self-care as my top priority. Dying sooner than later was always my goal but with the help of consistent therapy and medication I was able to focus on more healthy goals. I succeeded for some months but my familiar friend is back to offer a coat of a solution as I tremble with the overwhelming decision we, he and I, have come to.

The inside of my mind is in a frantic frenzy to escape this jubilant event by all means necessary. I must die before this takes place is the only thing I hear being screamed inside of my head. This mustn’t happen, I’m not ready. How can I not be ready? He and I have been in a committed relationship nearing on thirteen years and I do love him deeply. So why are all of my alarms going off in unison like an attack in imminent? Because in this life I was taught that all good leads to some form of punishment and that is rooted in a gaping hole in my soul left by my wicked parents. They watered the seed for so many years that a sickly, thorn covered tree has grown in place. Chopping that tree down isn’t an option yet, I still have the want to cling to its bloody branches and weep for just a while longer. Who am I without it? At this time I am unsure. A woman cannot begin to blossom from the cracks of abuse until the beast is faced and slain. The sword is there but I’m not ready to bid my farewells to all I’ve ever known. It garners me the attention I was so starved of in my youth and dries my tears with one scratching swipe. It wants me to perish as much as I do, we have that much in common.

Any time an event takes place in my life that might bring some spring to the winter, I stomp it out and beg forgiveness so I am not punished. A wedding and marriage are two huge events and it has triggered a chain of thoughts that has led me back to the place most comfortable. Last night alone I spent hours envisioning my demise in various ways. It’s always so vividly detailed that it startles even my hardened therapist. She’s seen a lot and if she knew I was back at this place she would once again ask to have me committed.

It’s all in the details. I would have to work fast so I wouldn’t be interrupted again. After a well written letter to those most important to me I would begin the long process. First I would have to pull enough out of my bank for a cremation, it runs about seven-hundred dollars for something basic, and it will be left with my letters so no one is burdened financially by my death. After that it would be the pictures of me around the house. I would have to carefully dispose of them and my favorite belongings so there’s little visual memory of me. Next would be the deletion of all of my social media accounts so no one can go back and post how much they miss me. I want to be forgotten all-together when I go. After that I would take a few anxiety pills, probably Klonopin, with a shot of my favorite Soju liquor. It would ease the nerves and I keep half a bottle in the fridge just for this. A hot shower would follow and then a quick brush of makeup. Can’t look like complete trash when the EMTs carry my corpse to the coroner. In my most comfortable dress I would slip and turn on repeat that last song I want to hear. I’d have a cigarette on the back porch with a cup of coffee. Then from the wooden pickets of the deck I would secure my rope and then move it to my neck. If I put it together right, there won’t be much of a struggle. In a dress and over the concrete, any mess I may make can easily be washed away and not ruin anything visually in the home. It will be done and I will finally be free.

A lot of thought has to go in to killing yourself cleanly. I’ve lived a messy life and want to go with at least a little dignity. Some may call me a coward but if only they could just have a taste of how tired I am of trying and just failing. This is just a fragment of what clouds my thoughts lately. It can get more gruesome, like slashing my wrists or throat in the shower. We won’t go that far in today’s blog because honestly I am just examining why on Earth the idea of being wed has sent me spiraling so hard and so fast. In the end I truly know the reason. I’m still that scared little girl who is waiting on the next beating from her mother or disappointed talk from her father.

I called her, my mother, when I announced our union for later this year. She couldn’t have cared less if she tried. A girl, even as a woman, wants her mother’s approval and well-wishes. Her narcissism prevents her from focusing on anyone or thing but herself and I know better than to seek any fragment of validation from her. It never fails to be the same result yet I still continue to wander back hoping for something different this time or that time. It will never be different and I hope one day I will fully comprehend this. I want to be able to grasp that if it isn’t about her, it doesn’t matter to her. This didn’t help my fall in to the void, I think it added enough weight for me to sink faster. Talking to her just does that to me.

In my heart I know how much I want to take this next step in my life but I am taking tentative, probably too so, steps to ensure everything turns out happy instead of painful. But as half on my mind runs around the room picking dresses and cakes, the other half is screaming loudly that it’s time to take my life. That primal fear that they instilled in me is still there and in so many ways I sabotage my own life in order to cater to that feeling. The mix of emotions I have right now is keeping me on the edge of vomiting up this darkness that still lingers in my veins. It’s all just a fist in my throat waiting to pour out on to the only people who listen.

This isn’t their sickness so I must tread lightly and not ruin the few loved ones I have left by infecting them with my toxic negativity. So I stuff it all down until the room is full and I am drowning. Is it the best method? No, of course not. But as a person who is still healing from years of trauma I am learning what works best. I mustn’t overwhelm them with my putrid state of being and thus I force on a façade that everything is and will be fine. I’m unsure of how fine it really will all be as all of the sirens are sounding and I am covered in debris of my own making. It’s a complete mess and the tools I currently have just can’t clean it all up. This is more than meditation and avoiding carbs for breakfast can handle. It’s a whole tree that needs to be chopped down, ground up, and burned to ash for the river to take.

I acknowledge that this is a jumbled mess of emotions but it’s just a little of what is seeping out through my cracks. I’m getting married and it makes me happy that he’ll have me for the rest of our lives, or at least promise as such. I’m also so scared to continue living and see the large change in my life. It’s a delicate game of push and pull right now. I’m fragile and I acknowledge that fact. I am constantly blooming and changing so I have to flow with it. I just pray that my outcome, that my end game, is what it was meant to be in the cards of the universe. We will just have to see what side on my internal war will win.