Suicide and living inside a box
I have been experiencing hard times lately. Feeling down in the dumps – up against myself and losing the battle and taking it out on those around me – especially Thomas and the kids. And of course the more I focus on how hard it is, how bad I feel, how much I dislike myself then the worse it gets. It does become like a bad joke – how many more things can go wrong? At least today when something crashed to the floor I laughed at it.
I haven’t been doing much laughing lately (though the cats and kids do offer some laughs). Then I think of friends that have had direct experience with suicide in their life. I think of those that have committed suicide, and part of their purpose (though I’m guessing this is not a big factor) is to make others aware of how they are suffering. Make them pay. Those that are left behind are left with questions. What have I done wrong? What could I have done to make it better?
There is an appeal to the thought of suicide – a way out of all this suffering. At least it can be part of the belief. I was taught early on in my teenage years (probably a good time to learn this before it was too late) that suicide is not a way out. The suffering continues and then you are doomed to come back and repeat it again. Your best bet is to learn the lessons and move beyond the place where it feels like too much.
So I feel down and stuck without freedom in a life that feels lonely and crazy and I know it is of my own creation. If I could just change my thoughts. If I could just be more positive. If I could just accept things the way they are. So many if’s that could bring change and yet change is resisted.
I have also resisted being put inside a box. I have resisted furthering my education and being told what to do. I have resisted fitting in. I had the realization that this resistance to some outside force putting me in a box is because I have already placed myself in one. I have no room to move and have been unable to break down the walls that I have created to keep me safe, that in fact keep me bound up tight – alone and scared and angry. So don’t you dare put me into a box. I don’t like boxes. I won’t go into your box thank you very much. I have my own. I don’t need anymore until I can find out the key to letting myself out of the current one. And then hopefully I will also learn how to stay out of boxes and learn to live a life with freedom.