If life or death were pain-free, which would you choose? I am somewhere between whichever comes my way. I want to live, to enjoy life and see prospects for the future come true. Jobs, education, babies, family. But even the dreams feel borrowed just as is this life and although I am fighting so hard to crawl out of the dark abyss I am in, in Sade's words, there is not yet a soup cooked that has been able to warm my soul.
Once again I am in a new social setting, a new chance to start over you would say. Yet I feel so terribly alone in the midst of over 200 students in my class alone and more than 1000 in my school. I wonder if unbeknownst to me, I wear a scarlet letter that warns every one to keep away from me. Such that in close to six months I haven't made a friend and while everyone is getting to know everyone else and making friends and even getting in new relationships, I check in every morning to my solitary cell placed strategically within the general unit to accentuate the loneliness.
My short stint with the fellowship program is over. It should come as no surprise that I made no real friends during that either. Sure I was in a (characteristically ) obsessive relationship with one of the other fellows. And for the length of time I could get high on the sex, it was perfect. But just like any drug, I built a tolerance for her and the sex, unless she could learn from Sia to swing from chandeliers. But even that would again, be shortlived. I can't even say it to her, that I am over the wave. Although in my defense her mental state is just as precarious. And I would like to leave as minimal collateral damage as possible. Make no mistake, I feel so reprehensible, abhorrent, terrible for this. I can't connect to anyone , am an emotional leech and on top of that a weak person. I hear you think 'no wonder ' and I agree.
So I am back in my hollow world , dreaming of life and death intermittently. Truthfully I am more for the latter. Today I made a noose from a jacket sash, I am not sure what emotions should have been but all I could think of was "at least it's purple ". I talked to my long-term boyfriend a few minutes later and broke down though , so I guess you can say I am terrified. But lately it's all I can think about, ending my life, with a) full knowledge that it will be painful as hell b) that I am hell-bound for committing such a grave sin c) that there are probably people who will be affected by my demise, who will grieve and live their lives onwards with the memory as a scar- this is my greatest worry and regret d) that i may be forfeiting all chances of an afterlife.
I can't stave the typhoon and I feel myself being dragged underwater with every passing day. I don't know why I wrote this post. Not for pity for pete's-sake. Perhaps for remembrance if I do garner enough courage to even put up that chair beneath the mistletoe where death awaits. Maybe it is my way of reaching out. Or a confession to purge my soul. I only hope someone who needs it reads it and knows,
YOU ARE NOT ALONE.
