It is Sunday, December Sixth, 2009. Today is the day i was going to kill myself.
i was going to go to early mass, then to margies to grab one last grass hopper (it's a coffee with mint and chocolate in it), then to late service at Christ Community Church. i was going to come home, do some light cleaning, vaccuum, pick up, finish off my laundry, love on the mutts and then i was going to write. i was going to write a few letters to those who were going to need them - mom, dad, friends, loves, A., G., probably a letter for the One. i wasa going to write one last time here, signing off for good. i was going to hang the letters in a nice little bag on the front door, a little note for A. to not come down stairs when she got home in the morning. starting around 11pm i was going to take the last dose of my meds i would ever take, flushing the rest of them. then i would pray, i would have prayed like i have never prayed before. Gethsemane prayers. sweating blood prayers, take this cup from me prayers. the idea was to start around 5am. kss the dogs goodbye. cry tears with them as i puthem in their kennels. start the bath tub with cold water, bring the ice down stairs and fill the tub with them, the cold water splashing would be the last sounds ever to ring in my ears, not a shame but a tad deflating for someone who gave so much to music and to prayers, and to sound, but the splashing would have been peaceful and a good sense of finality. i would have stripped down to all but my jeans and the razor blade in my hand. stepping in and lying down would have been the hardest part, next to putting the letters on the door and locking the mutts up. it would all be easy now, with one last breath of prayers i was going to cut my arms with vertical lacework crossing all the major veins and arteries. as i bled out the flashbacks would begin. my life in the beautiful technicolor of the mind.fortunately none of this has, or will happen.
when i was at my lowest i shared the plan with G. who is part of the body of Christ and thus is Christ here on earth. now i know i have to believe this for it to be true, and if only then true in my own mind. and in the heavenly form G. stalled my icey blood bath. but to be fair he only had a part to play as there was a second part to my rescue.
Thursday morning i had a dream, my grand father LA and i were in a snowball fight with a couple of young kids. that was the whole dream. LA is, to my best knowledge, 86 years old, and has never been in a snowball fight in his life. It was in this dream i realized who i am. who i have always been, i am a dreamer.
for most of my life i have faught to know who i am. i have tried to fit into a hundred different molds. trying to cram my character into convention, trying to make everyone around me happy. i have altered who i am to get what i want or to make someone else feel an emotion. i have been a permanent con artist for years. but this gift of being able to be the chameleon stopped being something i use to being something that used me. i have been afraind since before i can remember. i just searched my memories for the start of this acting race and i can't find it. i think of girls i wanted, to parents and teachers i wanted to please. i am lost, i was lost. there is no doubt of one thing though: i remember my first honest prayer.
i was thirteen, D.S. was talking to a room full of kids, tears streaming down his face, just that week one of the kids in the group had shot himself. D. was supposed to meet with him and he had to rearange the meeting due to a conflict in the schedule. he blamed himself and out of this out pouring of genuine emotion he pleaded with us to let the light of the One into our hearts. it was then i quietly prayed in the back of the room to do so.
to think today was the day i was going to forcably extinguish the light in my heart here on earth. i don't know what all this means but i know it means something to someone.
i have tried to kill myself one other time. that time it wasn't planned out like this one was, i was over flowed with emotions i couldn't understand, i had the gun in my mouth, finger on the trigger, when i felt an angelic presence with me move the gun away from me head, down to the ground. i cried. i cried because i was in the presence of the divine, i cried because i was to weak to follow through, i cried for everything that night. i am sure i would have done the same tonight.
*****
i don't know what happens tomorrow. i wasn't supposed to have it. i have stolen a car, i have done cocaine, i have played in a punk rock band, i have praised the One, i have done many things. i don't think i am supposed to know what is to happen tomorrow. but i know that i am a dreamer. i am not a mathametician. i am not the world's greatest speller, not the world's greatest lover or fighter. i am not many things. but i am myself and i will do what i will do.
there is a chance i get gunned down tomorrow, maybe i have to do the gunning. i know i have to let go of this obsessive need to know things, i will never know them all.
i am not sure how to end this. i am tired. i am 26 years old and i have given more than i thought i would all of my life. icarus thy aim is true.
