If life means watching everyone I've ever cared about kill themselves, then I really don't want to be a part of it anymore.
The
past couple of months have been so horrible, and it just doesn't seem
to be letting up the constant barrage of new shit hitting the fan.
I
gained a whole new perspective about living when I was in life support
after a suicide attempt last year - when things were getting tough, I
might have had brief thoughts about suicide, but I threw those out of
my head before I had a chance to dwell on them too much.
These
days though, I'm starting to wonder if I'm going to cope with all this,
or if everyone else has the right idea about dying, not me about life.
I'm already finding myself slipping into crazy and destructive headmiles.
The worst part is knowing i have the means if I really end up going through with it.
I
think I need to find a group of new friends who don't spend so much
time drowning themselves in negativity and depressing, while not really
wanting the help everyone is offering to them. All it takes is an
active decision - it they don't want to make it, then it might be me
having to make one about forming a more positive, constructive circle
of friends. I can't afford to end up back where I was with this shit
just over a year ago. I honestly wouldn't survive next time round.
I
start grief therapy on the 30th October - that should be interesting.
Hopefully it'll help me cope a bit better with Hamish's death. I'm
keeping an open mind about it at least.
Yes, I think so. Would explain the aches, being totally drained and
wiped out, and the pallor that is excessive, even for me (since I'm so
pale anyway).
I feel ickle!
On
a good note, there's a possibility I'll be getting a job as a writer
for a LGBT website/community. Seems I got through the first phase of
applications, since I received an email today asking for some more info
and also informing me I'll be getting a call within the next 3 - 5
days. I hope I get a position - it'd be awesome. Combining my talent
for writing on subjects that interest me on a site that is a great
resource.
It's
almost as if my dose doesn't hold me anymore - it's the same sort of
really deep muscle and bone pain that always heralds the onset of early
withdrawals. It's the old 'damned if you do, damned if you don't'
scenario. Without the dose, my legs hurt. With the dose, my legs hurt,
because the shit gets into every cell (not to mention my teeth) in my
body.
That
aside, I got my snake bite piercings redone yesterday - they seem to be
doing alright. The show-stopper though is my new 4mm (soon to be 5mm)
dermal/biopsy punch done through the cartilage of my upper left ear. I
was supposed to get the other side done, in the shell/conch, but they
wouldn't do it, assuming I wouldn't handle the pain. It's fine. I don't
even notice it, except that it looks awesome, and I keep looking at it.
I could have gone and got the second one done today, but whoops, spent
my allocated piercing money on the snake bites - what can I say, I was
pissed off that I was being treated like a girl. I've had some hardcore
piercings done, but I couldn't handle this? If I was a guy, they
would have done ten of them on me, I'm guessing. Will get the other
done in a few weeks, when I get paid again. Believe it or not, my legs
hurt more than the permanent hole through my ear!
I also shaved off all my hair - doing a repeat of last year's baldy hair-do's. Yay.
I
had my writing and artwork picked up for a competition today, since I'm
banned from the premises it's held at until the 11th. I submitted a
(very) contraversial piece of work, very impressive and confronting -
well, it didn't take five minutes of being displayed before the
comments, mostly good, but a few nasty ones started. I dislike
uneducated people, and no, I don't mean they need uni degrees or
whatever. A little bit of common sense NEVER goes astray.
Things
are on the up - I'm leaving the house now of my own free will (albeit
to modify myself and go impulse shopping) but I'm leaving the house.
That's a good sign. The new piercings, well, a long time sign that I'm
struggling, and in a bad headspace, but fuck, sometimes you just need a
change. It's 50/50 in this instance. I'm still devastated about Hamish,
but each day, I cry a little less, and cope a little more.
Hamish, I think about you every day - I know you're not hurting anymore...
Sometimes I think he did it to punish me for not going down to see him, and I get so angry with him.... but god knows I love the man with all my heart.
Time flies, no matter how much you’re hurting...
Current mood: contemplative
Amazing,
and I didn't believe it, but it's true. It's been a month since Hamish
left this world - four weeks of utter devastation, and
broken-heartedness. Four weeks of guilt and questioning what I could
have done differently. Four weeks of my own self-doubt, headmiles,
faith in life, wanting to give up, wanting to shine his life through my
own. Four weeks of emotional turmoil...
Four
weeks ago, I thought I wouldn't last another day, another week. Then
one day turned into one week, one week turned into two, then three...
we're up to four now, and the pain is still there. It will always be
there, and that's ok. I'm allowed my to grieve. He was my closest
friend in this world. Unconditional love, that's what our friendship
was based on. You're lucky to find that in a lifetime. I found it so
early in mine, and he his.
I
have my bad days, where I think he had the right idea, that this time,
there won't be anyone around to save me like last time. Granted, I've
hardly left the house in a month, hardly talking to anyone. I'm still a
total headcase, but hell, when am I not?
It's all relative.
I'm
fragile - the smallest thing can set me off into emotional chaos again.
I think that's part of the reason I'm shutting off from everyone and
everything, unless absolutely necessary. Self-preservation. We do what
we need to, to survive. I can't handle anymore big upsets or drama at
the moment... not just yet. Closing off is my way of self regulating,
making sure that I stay okay enough to keep in this fight we call life.
Today I tried to get myself admitted to hospital - hell, it's not like
I haven't been there a million times before. For once, TACT were nice
to me. They didn't admit me, because they think in this particular
circumstance, it could be more detrimental to my already
fragile-as-a-spider's-web state of mind.
TACT
will be calling me every night for the next few weeks, to keep an eye
on me and make sure I don't do anything silly. This lady called just
after I found Hamish's obituary.
It's
been a long day full of unofficial 'therapy' from ATODS, plus I've
started going to their recovery meetings, held every Thursday.
I'm already a sensitive person, by nature.
At the moment, it's amplified by a million.
Fucking crying all the time.
Total fucking messed up headcase.
(Please don't deny it - death of a close friend turns most people into one)
People
are worried because I spiral out of control when I'm hurting, and I'm
impulsive. This has lead geographicals, clinical death, many scars...
they just never know what I'm going to do, and if I'll survive.
This pretty much sums up how I feel
Current mood: crushed
Sunday is Gloomy, My hours are slumberless, Dearest, the shadows I live with are numberless Little white flowers will never awaken you
Not where the black coach of sorrow has taken you Angels have no thought of ever returning you Would they be angry if I thought of joining you Gloomy Sunday
Sunday is gloomy with shadows I spend it all My heart and I have decided to end it all Soon there'll be flowers and prayers that are sad, I know, let them not weep, Let them know that I'm glad to go
Death is no dream, For in death I'm caressing you With the last breath of my soul I'll be blessing you Gloomy Sunday
Dreaming I was only dreaming I wake and I find you Asleep in the deep of My heart Dear
Darling I hope that my dream never haunted you My heart is telling you how much I wanted you Gloomy Sunday
This
song was banned in so many countries because everyone started
committing suicide. There is debate over the truth of this, but fuck,
it's a fight to not follow Hamish, and the lyrics of this song sum up
exactly how I feel.
I should never have hesitated. He'd probably still be alive.
God, I can never forgive myself for what I've done.
I could have saved him.... I really could have.
Current mood: crushed
The
last few weeks have been up there with some of the most horrible I've
had in my life (and believe me when I say I've had more than just a
few).
I'm not usually much of a blogger - I used to be, sort of,
but usually end up forgetting about the various blogs I have around the
place. On this occassion, I need to get this out.
My closest
friend, one who was there for me when no-one else was, took his own
life a few weeks ago. The three week anniversary is today. I was so
angry with him - he's no longer in pain, he dumped it all on me when he
left. Still, I can't hate it. Our friendship was never about what we
had done, or what we were doing or going to do - it was about us, as
people.
I was meant to go down to see him a few weeks ago - I
didn't make it, would have had problems with dosing. Planned changed to
two or three weeks away. He changed though, started drinking, not
looking after himself... he died before I got a chance to visit. I
obviously should have just gone down in the first place. Withdrawals
wouldn't have killed me - not going down killed him. I will never
forgive myself. I couldn't even make it to his funeral.
To
Hamish - please don't ever doubt how much I loved you and how much you
meant the world to me. I don't think you ever believed otherwise
anyway. I never felt once that you didn't care. If I could change the
past month, I would, but it still may not have been enough. I'm angry
that you didn't tell me anything - we've always been totally honest.
You were my rose amongst the thorns in this world. I'm going to post
the lyrics to one of your favourite songs; Vincent - it was one of the
first things you told me the first time we met. The John Denver version
too, because I know you liked it better...
Starry, starry night Paint your palette blue and gray Look out on a summer's day With eyes that know the darkness in my soul Shadows on the hills Sketch the trees and the daffodils Catch the breeze and the winter chills In colors on the snowy linen land
Now I understand What you tried to say to me How you suffered for your sanity How you tried to set them free They would not listen they did not know how Perhaps they'll listen now
Starry, starry night Flaming flowers that brightly blaze Swirling clouds in violet haze Reflecting Vincent's eyes of China blue Colors changing hue Morning fields of amber grain Weathered faces lined in pain Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hands
Now I understand What you tried to say to me How you suffered for your sanity How you tried to set them free They would not listen they did not know how Perhaps they'll listen now
For they could not love you But still your love was true And when no hope was left in sight On that starry, starry night You took your life as lovers often do But I could have told you Vincent This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you
Starry, starry night Portraits hung in empty halls Frameless heads on nameless walls With eyes that watch the world and can't forget Like the strangers that you've met The ragged men in ragged clothes A silver thorn on a bloody rose Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow
Now I think I know What you tried to say to me How you suffered for your sanity How you tried to set them free They would not listen they're not listening still Perhaps they never will
Hamish,
that song sums you up, and as I sit here typing I can't help but cry
about how I've lost the best friend I have ever met. We were perfect
friends from the start.
"Hard Souls Make Diamonds of Coal and Ashes of Embers From the Past Now Gone"
You had that quoted on your tattoo, and I will have it done on the memorial tattoo I'm designing for you.
Rest
peacefully, Hamish, and even though you know I don't believe in any
sort of afterlife, or ghosts, I'd welcome any opportunity for you to
prove me wrong.
I love you... This picture I'm putting up is the
one you took especially for me just before I was due to fly down to be
with you...
Please
send some me some positive energy because I'm havin the most difficult
time of my life right now and not coping with his death at all....
One of my favourite monologues from a movie...
Current mood: relaxed
It was one of those days when it's a minute away from snowing and there's this electricity in the air, you can almost hear it. And this bag was, like, dancing with me. Like a little kid begging me to play with it. For fifteen minutes. And
that's the day I knew there was this entire life behind things, and...
this incredibly benevolent force, that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid, ever. Video's a poor excuse, I know. But it helps me remember... and I need to remember...
Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in.
I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.
I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.
I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.
We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.
I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.
I
am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away
from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I
wish they could adopt me.
I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I
survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in
another year I will probably be able to walk again.
I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.
We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.
I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.
I
am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore,
nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now
live with another woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who
found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found
out my abusive partner is also a woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.
I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.
I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.
I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.
I
am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better
person if I didn't have to always deal with society hating me.
I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.
I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.
crushed
exhausted
sore
contemplative
relaxed
sleepy