Saturday, 25 October 2014

Breaking into heaven

May 2010

I began working on a pathway to life’s conclusion immediately. I selfishly over thought the process. This spiralled disturbingly from pricing heavy ropes to examining the height of trees in St Anne’s Park and nearby grassland. In a truly sinister shift of deliberation, the coward in me later sought an excuse to conceal my demise; believing that dangling from a tree close to home was not appropriate. I changed my focus to finding a more understated manner in escaping the reality I had come to loathe.

This confusing observance of wanting something more subtle than escaping through a noose set from the closest tree to home was fuelled by two very different reasons; firstly the disturbingly low belief that in the aftermath of goodbye, I didn’t deserve the attention or discussion from neighbours or the local community, my exit should be unresponsive and go unnoticed. I was worthless. I would not be missed.

The second reason of avoiding goodbye close to home was that my family deserved to be left in peace, not to be haunted or scared by the reminder of my exit every time one of them walked around the corner. Buried beneath the unrelenting tragedy of self hate and anger was the glint of hope that in considering the thoughts and feelings of those closest to me showed my inner decency; this trail of compassion wrapped itself around me. I constantly tried to cut loose. I was worthless. I would not be missed. Still it clung on.

Although I believed I would be in a state of stillness for the final weeks, I was annoyed at myself for still caring. I was still angry, still acknowledging that there was a possibility that I shouldn’t feel this way; that I should be happy and have the right to be content. Going forward I ensured that my mood deteriorated further with tormenting rituals that became routine in my daily life; firstly I felt the need to look in the mirror at any given opportunity to remind myself that I was of course worthless and that I would not be missed. This started off very much ad hoc, once maybe twice a day, soon growing into a much bigger and damaging set play with insults and disparagement aimed at myself all too regularly.

I craved further hurt. I began eyeing strangers aggressively; insulting them should they challenge my glare. My intentions of hope being that I would be punched, kicked and ultimately receive the hurt and pain I deserved. I was of course worthless. I would not be missed.

I went to meet friends one night. As I sat in the pub, I looked around resenting the smiles and laughter of so many people enjoying the company of others. I sat alone. I watched as my friends interacted with each other, speaking about things I knew nothing about and things I maybe knew about, but was afraid to express my opinion on. I sat alone. I waited and watched. 20 minutes passed and no one approached me. I was invisible. An extra. A nobody. I was contributing nothing to any of this and clearly my absence would go noticed. In these moments I finally felt the stillness and relaxation I had craved. Time to go. I was worthless. I most definitely would not be missed.

I got up and left without notice.

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