Today, I spent some time thinking (yes I am always thinking), about how I am a runner! Great exercise, right? Well yes, but I am not that kind of runner. I am "when the tough get's going, I take off", kind of runner. I've been running for 15 years. Finally, I am tired..like Forrest Gump (my hero), I'm simply tired, and want to go home. But where is home?
I know where I was born...a beautiful city, that I still love to this day. I know where I spend my childhood years..in 3 different provinces, and maybe 4 times as many towns, all by the time I was 10. I was a military brat. My mother saw to it we stayed still for a while after that, and let us make some solid friends, that I still have one of to this day!! She is my rock, my sister, and owns more self help books than I could set on fire, in one day, to roast hot dogs! She will tell you yes, she has this, this and this, and I love her!! I will tell you, she IS this and this and this to me, and I love her!! She's been my rock, through everything you will read.
I digress (get used to that), now where was I? Oh yes..a runner. After a life changing traumatic event, when I was 33, I began my running. First I ran away from my friends, then my job, then my marriage, and yes...even my kids, and eventually, 18 months after the event, I even ran away from my Country. One would think if you go far enough, you can out run anything. I will tell you, that isn't so. No matter how far you go, you can never out run yourself. So 15 years later, here I am. Me, myself and I...all intact, on one level or another, and still all together. I've tried running, changing, denial, medication, self-medicating, and just plain putting one foot in front of the other. And through it all, I have hurt people along the way, and myself. I can't be responsible for other people, so I am now taking the time, to be responsible for myself, and be good to myself.
Fact: I have diagnosed depression, anxiety, borderline personality disorder (or traits there of).
Fiction: I chose to be this way (sure buddy!! Not!!)
Fact: I have survived my Mother's successful suicde
Fiction: After 15 years, I've gotten over it (are you picking up a theme here?)
Fact: I have been fortunate enough, to survive, 2 of my own attempts.
Fiction: I wanted to die. If you believe that, you could not have read much of anything, on Suicide.
We don't want to die...we want the pain, no matter physical or emotional, to stop. It may hurt today, and then not tomorrow, you don't know. It may hurt for weeks, and be okay for months, even years. What doesn't change, is that no matter how brief, or how long, we need your love. We need your support. You think you are scared??? Try being us..waking up on a gurney...and realizing how you go there, and being the first one to ask, "Oh shit, what the hell brought that on and what was I thinking". The other familiar statement after surviving such a thing is, "Never again". Well if you know anything about habits, addictions, or mental illness..we don't come with a guarantee. And if you think that is scary, again...guess how freaked out we are. Have those thoughts bouncing in your head, while you sip on tea and wear your "I'm normal face".
And then there is the acceptance and ease, with which we can say "I think I may have a problem. And I may even be suicidal." Those statements right there, can clear out your world of people as about as fast, as a bad fart can clear a room.
It's not easy, but quite a few of us do it. And some of us survive. Some of us don't. But like anyone else with any illness, we try to cling to hope....hope for a cure..hope for a miracle...hope for Peace!
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