I binged watched “13 Reasons Why” on Netflix a few weekends ago. I’m an adult, with a mental disorder – I think I can handle the show. I found it addictive and well done. I know there is a lot of criticism out there about it, and to a point I agree. No teenager, or younger, should watch it alone. Especially not the last two episodes. Even I had to fast-forward through some scenes.
But I understand. And it is a thought, or a slow acting drug, in my brain that will not go away. Some days it intensifies. Today is one of those days. I have fought with my partner for too many minutes on the phone. I want to cry to my best friend, but it’s Mother’s Day and she will be busy being feted, I hope. God knows she deserves it, after the shit she takes from people. I spoke to my mother, knowing that her voice belies what I will see next weekend. I am desperately trying to get ready for that journey and all that is on my plate when my plane lands, but I cannot focus. My brain is frazzled.
So, how many reasons does one need?
- One: Did you have a horrid childhood or some other terror to drive you to it?
- Two: Did you OD accidentally? Or on purpose?
- Three: You chose the above escape because you have no hope for the future?
- Four: A mental disorder – which just fucks with everything in your head. Constantly, day in and out. Night after night. Listening to the clock wind down…
- Five: Is death knocking on the door of a loved one? Or you’ve lost someone unexpectedly?
- Six: Do you feel isolated? Misunderstood? Unable to trust anyone?
- The list will never end.
I could come up with a thousand reasons why I would follow the road less taken and end it all. Similar to the list I had when I went into the counseling session prior to my tubal ligation (because god knows I didn’t want to pass these genes along…). I was told no one had ever been so prepared as to why they didn’t want to have children. I always try to be prepared.
Which is why I need to say the following:
Don’t speak. Don’t tell me “things” will get better. Don’t tell me my head is spinning and I need to relax. Just shut the fuck up. Because you are messing with my head. Right at the time when I need it the most to make you and every other goddamn person in my life happy. I am pushing myself to the limit. I am running the marathon and I have lost my wind. I am on sheer will-power right now. There is a job at hand to do. And it is not a hand-job or whatever kind of sexual experiences we will have together when we are once again in the same place.
You’re texting me now. Trying to make everything pearly white and shiny, like your teeth after a visit to the dentist. I hate the dentist.
Just accept the fact that today, all your cheerleading is not working (especially after our screaming match). Don’t speak. I don’t want to hear anything, or perhaps I cannot because the racing cars in my head are causing static.
Don’t speak…Is that song about her losing him? Or him losing her?
No doubt, I’d like to believe it’s the latter. That we’re stronger than they are. People without our disease. They do not understand the fight we are in every day, when we awaken (if we are lucky enough to sleep) to when we close our eyes. You cannot see the physical pain of what we are going through, but it’s there. You cannot imagine the depths of despair, anxiety and paranoia we deal with everyday. You cannot imagine walking in our shoes for 24-hours. It would eat you alive.
But we keep going. Most days I don’t know why – what the point is, or how I even manage to have the energy. And yet, I persist. I exist. For now at least.
However, I don’t know what the final tipping point will be. I don’t know what my 13th reason could be. Or my 130th. I just know it is always there – calling to me, tempting me to release the pain I hold inside, much like that young girl on the television. It is not something I wish for. It is not something I idealize. But it’s whisper will never go away.
And maybe that, ultimately, is the reason why.
© Sorrow & Kindness