Day 52: A Peppy Little Tale about Faux Suicide Wishes

Have you ever wished that someone or some force other than yourself would take active control over your life? Perhaps circumstances and the resultant choices and conclusions caused by those circumstances are all just a bit too much? I felt like this a few months back and still feel this way periodically. Funnily enough, in the midst of my desire to pull a Virginia Woolf and step into a pool with rocks in my pockets (not that Woolf used a pool) a friend was seriously injured in a random accident. I was jealous.

I am not suicidal. I have never truly been suicidal, but there are times in these last six months that I long to not be in control of my life. My friend realized this fantasy of mine and for a short while all the factors of her life came sharply into focus as she battled for one singular purpose. To live. The physical injury and healing took over where everything else abruptly left off. She got to live my fantasy.

Each day I pondered what it might be like to step into the pool and sink to the bottom; walk into a busy street; or steer my car into oncoming traffic, it didn't feel like suicide wish, it just felt like a way to give up some of that control I've been so tightly hanging onto. How else could I prove to my husband that he loved me? How else could I make it through one more day without him and with knowing that I had finally dug myself into a hole from which I could not dig out?

Realistically, I knew that it was just a pool and for one there aren't any heavy rocks around it, nor would I ever be at the pool with pockets. I wear bikinis to the pool; no place for the rocks. As far as the walking into the street thing, the problem there is that people here drive rather slowly and poorly so I probably couldn't get hit or seriously hurt if I tried. The last one, and the one I find myself thinking most often, would never work because it would likely injure others in addition to myself and that's not cool. I believe we have the right to be selfish if we want, but I'm not taking anyone else down with me.

So here I am, alive and kicking and realizing that I am in control, no matter how much I might not wish it. I never have wanted to end my life, but I think many of us would be lying if we did not at least secretly own the fact that just once, just briefly, we wanted a way out from the decision making process. A way to bring what really mattered back into focus not just for ourselves, but for the others in our lives. As stupid and ridiculous as it sounds, a part of me still wishes for the chance to wake up in a hospital bed, concerned faces hovering over me so that in a moment I would know exactly what matters most and the man I love might be able to remember what it was like when I was that "it" for him. I know this sounds melodramatic and slightly crazy, but I'm real and I don't hold back in my blogs. This is what I think sometimes and I don't think it makes me a danger to myself, so please do not call me a shrink.

I no longer have the time to fall apart. I have two jobs now and school and a cat that seems depressed. As much as I'd like to sit in a chair and stare at the wall while drinking wine or single malt and listening to sad music, I can't. Which sucks, because that is what I really need and want to do. I just want everything around me to stop because maybe if it did, this wouldn't hurt so much and the choices that we all have to make would not keep taking me further and further away from the one time in my life I was truly happy.