I was talking about stepping out in front of a car and welcoming the impact. Sitting here, typing this as I am right now, I can’t help but think how strange and peculiar the mind can be, releasing those kinds of thoughts and also rationalising them too. Certainly the past few weeks have made my already strange brain more variable in its mood than it would usually be.
I spoke yesterday about how my devil now has a name and how that simple fact is empowering. My devil has a name and a personality; it has character traits that I can identify and watch out for, I have the knowledge too plan ahead and ward it off the best I can.
Whenever I come back from the brink and escape the real dark thoughts, I wonder how anyone could possibly feel so low, so utterly hopeless, so lost and devoid of hope, as to wish such terrible things. How tragically sad it is to be in a place that the idea of throwing yourself in front of a car seems a perfect answer, a sweet escape. It seems so alien now, as it always does; how could I have felt that way? It makes my heart ache for the people that are feeling that way today. I feel a deep sense of sorrow for those who are in the position I was in, who do not understand what is happening in their mind, who have not yet reached the point where they reach out for help and begin down the path of recovery. It is a terrible thing, a truly terrible thing to be lost, confused, in pain, to not understand, to not have answers, to feel alone, vulnerable, hurt, every word no closer than the last to truly describing the anguish.
I wish I could save everyone. Too me that sounds and reads like a trite statement, but it is the truth. It is the truth.