You like it when I almost die
I have had occasion to tread the edge of the abyss in my life, more than even twice (and mostly all of my own doing). These penultimate experiences are apparently interesting to readers (in the literal sense, as the lights are ready to blink out).
My two most viewed blog posts this year are about near-death (or at least feeling extremely mortal). It is easier to share the big things, the dramatic things. And of course, I understand. Those are things that interest us.
It’s never the twenty choices, stuffed feelings, and interactions. It’s never, ‘I have been psychotically depressed for the past year’ and all the attendant problems.
In any one of those steps, I could have accepted an intervention. Of course, I ignored it. I was too busy killing myself softly and slowly with whatever was at hand. Things that hastened the end.
I, like a lot of us, was in the fast lane and I didn’t even see the offramp until I ripped across six lanes to bail on the whole thing.
It isn’t even that I was in the fast lane. I shouldn’t have been in the car in the first place. Still, I sped down the highway of life.
It is a difficult thing, the human pre-occupation with going over the past. Which, as a learning experience? Fine. But most of us don’t do that, do we? We kick our own asses in almost every uncomfortable musing unlocked by our brain (look at it this way, your bad moment might be somebody’s cocktail party story. A little infamy ain’t so bad).
For me, the fast lane took my mind off the matter. That finding of obsessions, aggressions, regressions, and digressions (ha, he said digressions, but I digress). The world flying by is better than wallowing or so I said. In reality, it all catches up with you.
It wasn’t about me
I am here because of the choices I made, but just as importantly, choices others made to lend a hand. My pit was mine, but my climb out was made possible by everybody around me. None of them gave up, even though I was full shit.
I was in the grip of Demon Opiate and would say anything to get more. No, that they didn’t throw me out was the real miracle. Yes, I accepted their hand when I was in the depths, but they pulled back.
I wanted them to trust me again (in particular, Diane, who was the brunt of most of my dishonesty, and frankly, if anybody had reason to give up, it was her. That is one of the best miracles in my life. That she didn’t throw me away), I hope they do. I try to honor their saving some grace for me. I hope I do. I am still here.
One thought on “Is it just me or is death a popular subject?”
i hope mine was one of those hands