My world is soundless and in slow motion right now. People talk, but I can’t hear them. I walk around in a daze wondering when the next bomb will go off. I think I am having mini anxiety attacks for no immediate reason, but there is an apparent reason. Suicide. My sister has again opted to opt out, and yet again failed. This time she even looked up how much she needed to off herself. Apparently her liver just said “Fuck it” and figured out how to deal with the assholes in his bar. She woke up four hours after she did it, surprised to be alive. I’m not surprised. This has been going on since I was a teenager. Sure there were a few years here and there that were good. She seemed to be doing pretty well, or at least she looked like it from the distance at which she held everybody.
This year was a banner year however, and really, I couldn’t blame her right now. It has been so rough and I would not wish what had happened to her this year on to anyone. First her recently divorced husband (whom she still loved, despite thier differences) committed suicide. Before that she was surprised to find out that she was pregnant with her boyfriend after not being able to conceive the whole time she was married. She was about to break up with the guy when they found out. She embraced being pregnant after after her initial state of shock wore off. It kept her in check when her ex-husband killed himself. He even said in the note that he left that he knew she wouldn’t follow suit with a baby to care for. It worked. She loved that unborn child even more. That sweet baby was going to help her claim her serenity. And then the unthinkable happened. It hurts my heart to even type this… She lost her sweet baby so late in her pregnancy that the trauma was both emotionally and physically scarring as well. I stayed with her for a week, acting as supporting sister and suicide watch. I slept with her, ate with her and cried with her.
The pain was all so much, too much. Not for anyone person to bear alone. So we tried our best to be there for her but then it came time for me to fly back home. She promised to keep in touch, yet she hardly ever did, or the calls were shallow or not about her pain. She has no ability to get her pain out, and then she seals it in a glossy varnish and tells you she’s fine. Meanwhile the contents are mixing into a noxious emotional bomb waiting to be set off. I think we maybe talked 3 times in 3 months, maybe. I used to try to reach out but she never called back and she never really wanted to share. It has always been like talking a neighbor you might be friendly enough with, but you’re not gonna exchange deep dark secrets over the fence. Or should I say, giant wall she has built around herself. I haven’t ever come out to her, not that she wouldn’t be ok with it. She just would assume it her responsibility to let people know that I’m not the “perfect” person they think I am. So we both don’t trust enough to share our secrets and then our own pain starts to devour us. Like ouroboros, except there is no renewal unless there’s acceptance of the pain. But there’s so much fucking pain.
How can one move on when the pain is so excruciating and her coping skills are crippling. And then yet another setback, she lost her job. The only thing normal in her life and that too has been pulled from her. I think there may have been some self-sabotage at that point, but fuck it, can you blame her? She’s in her own foggy haze waiting for something to erase her pain. She ‘s been wandering for so long, lost in it, that I fear, she may never be found. We call out her name from time to time until our voices go and our hearts are wrenched beyond repair. You see her in the shadows where once in a while she’ll sparkle, but it’s fleeting at best. How can I judge her for wanting out of something so insidious? I’ve tried to reach her and call her name, with my heart breaking each time I cannot touch her. I’d give her all of my sparkle if I could. I’d hug her and kiss her and rock her in my arms if she’d just let me. Instead her shadow hides in the distance, her heart aches in ways I cannot even fathom and she feels completely alone, unaware of the love at-the-ready for her if she would just let us in.
My life is a strange adventure. I have my own secrets that hurt my heart and I try my best to let them go so that they may not suffocate me. I try to reach out and share when I can. I see the glossy varnish fail from time to time and then the truth comes out and it feels so good, even if it’s painful. Like this post. It’s no wonder we all hurt so much when we hold it all in. When we don’t reach out and trust enough to be who we are. Messy, sad, hurt, scared and undeniably human. The funny thing is that if we looked around we would notice that everyone else is human too.