Behind Every Beautiful Thing, There Is Some Kind Of Pain
Posted on March 21st, 2011 in Emotional Angst, Featured, Starting Over
Yesterday was a rough day.
In fact it was so bad, and I felt so hopeless and desperate, that I seriously considered checking myself into a hospital. I looked up suicide crisis centers in my city, just in case, and wrote down the numbers for several help lines.
Sometimes life and the nastiness of this situation become so overwhelming that I fear I am not strong enough to carry on. I know that suicide is a terrible, selfish thing to even consider, but when you feel so depressed and so certain that you can’t possibly make it through the disaster that you’ve created for yourself, sometimes it seems like the best option.
I thought a lot about what I would write to the people in my life. To Aiden, V, my parents, Jack, and my kids (to be given to them much later in life of course, when they might understand). What would I say if I knew I was never going to see any of them again? What would I want them to know?
I would tell them that I was sorry for not being better, more resilient, more capable of standing up for myself. I would tell them that I really did try my best, but that at the end of the day, it just wasn’t good enough. I would tell them, each of them, that I loved them and that I hoped they would remember me the way I was before all of this started.
After spending more time than I care to admit writing these letters in my head, and formulating a suitable plan of self-execution, I decided to sleep on it because I never like to make decisions impulsively.
This morning I woke up, and for several glorious, groggy moments, I was just myself again. The pain and the anguish from yesterday was gone and I was warm and safe and happy in my bed. I completely forgot the horrors of my current state of affairs, and I was, dare I say, really happy.
Unfortunately those moments never last, and reality punches me in the face like an angry drunk. Still, for those brief, amazing, and beautiful moments, I remembered why life is worth living, no matter how bad it seems, and that really, I can’t lose much more than I already have. If Jack is determined to drive me right into the ground during the course of this divorce, well so be it. I can only trust that he will at least leave me with joint custody of our kids, and whatever money and possessions I “earned” by giving up my education and a career in order to raise our offspring.
Today is a better day.
Tomorrow is yet to be determined.