Plan B day – 4 years post suicide attempt and grateful as can be.

When I woke up on 12/12/2010 I was more surprised than anyone. When I “went to sleep” on the 11th it was after almost 1 liter of Maker’s Mark, 98 extra strength Tylenol and all of the anti-depressants I had. So waking up was a surprise.

But I had planned for it. Plan A was to commit suicide, Plan B was to live my life and never look back.

Plan B, what a glorious thing. When I did wake up, I went forward and have not looked back since.

I wish I could help every person that is on that ledge, let them see inside me and understand the possibilities that they have in front of them. That things will most likely get better. I don’t think there is anything anyone could say to me to keep me from making the attempt, but no one had a clue. I made a plan and moved on. I was actually at a party the night before and had a really good time, but no one there knew.

Here I am now, 4 years later. What a difference 4 years make.

Mom & Dad

Today is my dad’s 84th birthday. On the 16th, my mom turned 82.

I can almost remember the first time I realized I was my dad, or close enough to make a teenager sweat. At a young age I already had his mannerisms, speech patterns and sense of humor. His ability to tell the same story over and over again without noticing.

The first few times I knew I was becoming my father, I was very unhappy. What teenage boy wants to grow up and be his dad?

As I got older, I understood how much I wanted to be like my dad. Now, as I understand how finite my father’s life is, how happy I am that I am like him. I got the best parts of him.

A few months ago, my dad was diagnosed with acute leukemia, ten days earlier my mother under went surgery to remove a non-aggressive lymphoma. She has since recovered. He has had three rounds of chemotherapy. The chemo he is on has a 40% success rate. It is starting to look like he is in the 60%.

When you are young, you never think of your parents dying. As you get older, you start to realize it will happen some day. Some day has become very real.  For me, I now understand, that as the youngest of four, I might be the last to go. My eldest sister is 15 years older them I am. The last few months have been very sobering. This is starting to feel like the balance for being the spoiled youngest to be the one that might have to see the rest pass before you.

What do I say to the man who has given me so very much? How do I even start to say goodbye while he is still here? I know I can never express it properly, I can never show enough gratitude.

I gave my dad a Superman themed birthday card last Saturday. I wrote in it that he has always been my hero.

Happy Birthday Dad.

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Spiral by David Wojnarowicz

Sometimes I come to hate people because they can’t see where I am. I’ve gone empty. Completely empty and all they see is the visual form: my arms and legs, my face, my height and posture, the sounds that come from my throat. But I’m fucking empty.

The person I was just one year ago no longer exists; drifts spinning slowly into the ether somewhere way back there. I’m a xerox of my former self. I can’t abstract my own dying any longer. I am a stranger to others and to myself and I refuse to pretend that I am familiar or that I have history attached to my heels. I am glass, clear empty glass.

I see the world spinning behind and through me. I see casualness and mundane effects of gesture made by constant populations. I look familiar but I am a complete stranger being mistaken for my former selves.

I am a stranger and I am moving. I am moving on two legs soon to be on all fours. I am no longer animal vegetable or mineral. I am no longer made of circuits or disks. I am no longer coded and deciphered. I am all emptiness and futility. I am an empty stranger, a carbon copy of my form.

I can no longer find what I’m looking for outside of myself. It doesn’t exist out there. Maybe it’s only in here, inside my head. But my head is glass and my eyes have stopped being cameras, the tape has run out and nobody’s words can touch me. No gesture can touch me. I’ve been dropped into all this from another world and I can’t speak your language any longer.

See the signs I try to make with my hands and fingers. See the vague movements of my lips among the sheets. I’m a blank spot in a hectic civilization. I’m a dark smudge in the air that dissipates without notice. I feel like a window, maybe a broken window. I am a glass human. I am a glass human disappearing in the rain.

I am standing among all of you waving my invisible arms and hands. I am shouting my invisible words. I am getting so weary. I am growing so tired. I am waving to you from here. I am crawling around looking for the aperture of complete and final emptiness. I am vibrating in isolation among you. I am screaming but it comes out like pieces of clear ice. I am signaling that the volume of all this is too high. I am waving. I am waving my hands. I am disappearing. I am disappearing but not fast enough.

I need to rant

I need to get something off of my chest.

You know what I hate? When I am driving around on a beautiful day with my windows open and enjoying the fresh air and all I can smell is second hand smoke. It really pisses me off.

You know what else really gets me? When these same smokers throw their butts out the window. The world is not your freakin ash tray. Keep that crap in your car!!!

And the big one… Seeing kids in the car with a smoker! WTF people! Do you not understand the health risks known to be associated with smoking and second hand smoke? I think this is child abuse.

So quit smoking and save some money and actually enjoy the fresh air.

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November 7th, 2010

I guess the best place to start is with the event or day that got me started down the road to who I am today.

At this point we had been married for almost 19.5 years, the last decade or so we had been roommates, friends and parents to our two children. There was not much of a marriage left. I went upstairs to put away clothes that I knew my wife was folding. When I came into the bedroom, she was crying. I asked her what was wrong and she said she couldn’t do it anymore and the needed out of the marriage.

It was not the first time we’d had this talk or that she had told me this. This was however the first time I heard her. As much as I knew it was coming, I still felt devastated. I finished putting my clothes away then went downstairs to feed the kids. By the end of the evening and after the kids were in bed, I was falling apart. I felt lost, alone, angry and all the negative emotions you can name. The next few days, I was a complete mess. My birthday was 15 days after I heard her and was the worst I could remember. Christmas was difficult, but I was making progress in dealing with everything. I was struggling with a great deal of anger, with myself and with her. I was also bouncing all over in the grieving process.

I won’t bore you with the next couple of months, there was a lot of self medicating with alcohol, self-doubt, you know, the usual things you would expect. There was also a suicide attempt in early December. I slowly started to process what had happened and what it all meant.

I wasn’t sleeping and this gave me a great deal of time in my head to think about things and process the situation. One of the things I kept trying to do was change how I felt about her. I kept trying not to love her anymore, to not care. This topic is where I had my first real breakthrough. I realized that my feelings for her would never change and that was fine. Why should I stop loving her? She hadn’t changed and either had I, only the situation had changed. The more I thought about this the more I understood that is was perfectly fine to love her, I also came to the conclusion that there were a great number of people I still loved from my past, but I had suppressed my feelings because I thought (and was conditioned to believe) I could only love one at a time. That to love more than one was wrong. When I woke up the next morning, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, I was more at peace.

It felt great to have finally made some progress, towards what, I didn’t know, but I felt different and better.

Doug

P.S. I will go more into the suicide attempt in a future post, and as always feel free to ask questions.

 

Sucker Punch

I was very intrigued when I first saw the commercials for Sucker Punch. But then if we didn’t get excited from trailers and commercials, we would never go to the movies and people would lose their jobs.

The first thing I noticed about this movie is the eye candy, hard to miss. from the beautiful girls that make up the core of the cast to the outstanding special effects, this film is a real treat for the eyes.

The next thing I noticed was the sound track. They have taken known songs and redone them slightly to fit the film of the movie and to make them all fit together.

Overall, a great film that is well worth watching at least a second time if not a third.

 

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