I haven’t told anybody this and I honestly don’t want to so am forcing myself to so that it’s not a nugget of shame that spirals further (trigger warning – talk of suicide and self harm) but last year when I went into crisis and some friends forced me to treatment, I went but still had the continued intense suicidal ideation afterwards (it eased up a bit but still more intense than I’ve ever experienced before).
My seemingly logical solution (it’s so not but it made sense to me at the time) to that nagging urge was to just postpone my suicide date so my friends could feel they did everything they can and so they wouldn’t feel any real loss after I isolate from them.
Now, in order for the urge to abate, I have to give it a date or it’s pointless. Don’t ask me why… it’s just the way it works for me personally. I’ve been doing it since I was 11 years old (“just wait until your sweet 16! “, “wait until you can smoke/drink legally!”, etc) .
I’m all about symmetry so I told myself on my birthday, when I turned 33 at 3:33pm. I had it all planned out… I would jump from Angel’s Landing (the other modes of suicide seemed too easy to mess up after much research and I didn’t want to die in a city but to be released back to Mama Nature. Before that, I’d bought a crazy sharp razor set since I thought I’d just let myself bleed out in the woods somewhere but that would take too long).
Fast forward to August, I start writing all my goodbye letters and even did a goodbye video (first draft anyway). I scheduled my trip so I arrive at Zion the day before my birthday… only to find out Angel’s Landing trail was shut down due to trail getting wiped out by rockslides or something. When something in me was relieved, I was quite surprised. I had been so stuck on this and determined but I took the trail being closed indefinitely and my unforeseen relief as a sign. If there’s one thing I’ve been learning daily, it’s to try to listen to myself – good and bad – without judgement.
So here I am again, at a loss as to what the fuck I’m going to do. I honestly had no intention of making it this far (again – I thought I wouldn’t make it past 28). I thought I just found a job on workaway – they claimed they paid minimum wage but when I arrived, they said room and board was more than that so I wouldn’t get any paycheck so I left.
I wish I was normal sometimes and my thoughts didn’t go to all this and I could just be sane and happy. Focusing elsewhere seems so easy for almost everyone else. It’s not for me. The more I ignore the urges, the stronger it gets. So I have to have compassion for myself and just acknowledge it is what it is while also balancing the fine line of wallowing in self-pity and being a friend to myself. I can’t be an enabler to myself. But the military style upbringing with no empathy that I grew up with also doesn’t work.
Super morose post, I know. Sorry! Hahahaha…. one thing I have to say is that seeing locations as if it’ll be the last views you’ll ever see feels bittersweet and made my travels a LOT more intense. The beauty struck out to me more – the chill in the air, dragonflies flying around me as I kayaked, etc. so there was this crazy feeling of gratitude and awe in every single place I went. The world is a beautiful place, of that I have no doubt. I just feel separate from it all somehow.
To cheer this post the fuck up, here are some photos of just some of the beauty I’ve seen
P.s. will update when I stop freaking out and figure out my few next steps.