Borderline · Depression · Jesus · Suicide

The Shirt & The Bridge

I was driving across one of our very large bridges a few days ago over the lake I admire so much on sunny days. Unfortunately this was not a sunny day; on sunny days the water glistens like millions of diamonds and eases me. It almost makes me physically smile from inside outward. 

For what has been many months, there have been fewer and fewer smiles and especially laughter. I’ve been experiencing suffocation but now it’s close to death. I can feel those last bits of air leaving. I’m crying more and more which is very rare for me; I guess not anymore. Might be in the middle of a long nervous breakdown. I’m not a doctor. I don’t know. 

Death appears more and more beautiful everyday but my pain through the suffocating is pain to ending the pain. I feel eternally tortured in my own mind and only I can stop it. The mental pain never stops, awake or asleep and even when I’m lost somewhere in my head I feel it. It’s always breathing on my skin. I have thoughts everyday of simply forgetting it all, no more trying to struggle through this hell anymore, take the way out with whatever is in front of me in that moment. Damn the consequences because psych ache is more agony than any pain I’ve experienced and I’ve been through a lot. It’s impossible to adequately understand the pain of severe depression associated with bipolar disorder, unless you have it, yet I think it still is dependent on the individual. Having the issues of borderline personality with all that makes everything that much more messy.

When I’m lying there sobbing I feel physical heaviness all over my body and the suffocation increases. I just say over and over, “I can’t, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t fight anymore. [The mental depression has eaten a hole inside me and chronic illness has destroyed every part of my body and my life.] I can’t fight anymore.” I don’t want help, I want to end it because with help I know it will just be back, again and again until I do die. I’m done suffering, please stop the slow agonizing way to my grave. Unfortunately this fight to live that God has given us is so strong that even when I would’ve been successful in mind alone- my body fought hard to live. 

I’m not okay.

If you aren’t, just say it and stop lying to others but especially to yourself. 

I’m crossing the bridge, on that grey day, with an emptiness inside. I’m thinking like I do whenever I cross any bridge; how many have jumped? How many bodies have they not recovered; how many have they recovered? What does it feel like to work as a coast guard doing this? There’s been a few (jumps) since living here, none have survived and all on the various bridges, sometimes when it’s frozen and others when it’s not. I try to imagine that I wouldn’t hesitate if I were standing there. Afterall none of those people did. But this particular day my attention was brought to my right where a shirt, grey also as I recall, lay across the bar on the edge. It was fluttering quickly in the wind. I wondered why would a shirt be miles up here away from everything? 

Then I felt almost like the shirt portrayed emotion. It displayed loneliness, pain, sadness, loss and just maybe what was all that was left behind from a despondent human being with a beating heart and breath in their lungs to which everyone chose to look away from. To pretend that person wasn’t there because getting involved means being there and doing something. 

That shirt reminded me of the colorless world we are entering. The loneliness and pain some of us are all living in. The shirt as I saw it was a mirror. I’m on that ledge, on the side, with wind blowing against me, hesitating or waiting, because I’ve already given up my fight, I think I’m waiting for approval. I know everyone says don’t you love your family? Why would you die on purpose on them? 

My only answer is that- pain is very powerful.

I’m almost completely dead inside. My one flame is barely aglow and it’s my faith. If I lose that, I’m done, there will be nothing. I continue to feel love for others and sometimes my brain even uses that against me. 

I’ve been thinking about that shirt constantly and wondering if it’s had its release, has it been freed? Dreaming that it has. That I have.



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