How Precious Is Life....

No it is not a question, it is a statement.

How precious is life.

On Monday night this week, someone I know emptied a half bottle of valium into themselves.

This was not HBO.  This was not on the TV.  This was not a faceless article in the news.  This was not a couple of codeine with a vodka chaser.  This was a couple dozen valium taken because someone had decided that life was now simply too hard.

This was not someone being a drama queen.
This was not someone seeking attention.
This was not a cry for help.

This was someone deciding that life was just too difficult now.  That death was preferable to any sort of life.

This person has a roof over their head.  Food in their stomach.  A job.  A car.  Family.  And death was more preferable to life.

How did this make me feel?

Everything but angry.

Numb.  Heartbroken.  Sad.  Scared.  Helpless.  Desperate.  Nothing.  Everything.

The thing is, I understand that impulse.  At my worst in 2001, I carried around a full bottle of prescription sleeping pills for a week.  The only reason I didn't take them was a phone call from my mother one night who was calling "just to say hi".  But this isn't about me.

And it is.

When depression is referred to as The Black Dog, The Monster, The Enemy, people aren't kidding.

It is now Thursday night and I am sitting still unable to make sense of it all if I am honest.  And I live with my depression 24/7.  And yet, I can not understand the exact depth of pain that person was feeling at that particular moment.

You see, I have known this person for a long time and am well aware of (so I thought) how hard life is for them.
At least I thought.  You see, I would never have thought that they would actually do what they did.  Yes I had heard them mention it a few times, most people with Clinical Depression want to die at some point.    And many succeed.

THAT is the statistic we hear about - the ones who DO die.

What we don't hear about ENOUGH are the ones that attempt to die, or hurt themselves.  My friend is one of those people who we do not think about.  For every person who DOES succeed in suicide, it is estimated that 30 people attempt to.

These statistics are not newsworthy because these people live.  Well, it was newsworthy for me on Monday night.  And this person is not a statistic, they are a friend I care about.

I am talking about statistics here because it is still too difficult for me to talk about it directly for too long.  It is only the 4th night after.

This person has told me how much I mean to them and how important my friendship is to them.  And yet, they still took the valium.

In that moment - I was not enough
In that moment - their family was not enough.
In that moment - a potential future was not enough.
In that moment - life was not enough.

How precious is life.

Treasure it and never take it for granted.

And if this happens to you, and you are sitting at your computer surfing the web on the 4th night and you still do not know what to make of it, that is ok.

It will simply take time.  For you and for them.

There is only one thing I will say - it is worth NOT taking the valium.
Things can change, even if just a small amount.

On the 4th night, I have realised that my life has changed.  I can not describe how just yet.  And I may not share it when I work out how.

This is just how I am right at this moment of typing.  

For someone I know, life has also changed for them.  When they know how, I hope they will tell me.

L'Chayim.
To Life.

Damien
x

Change Isn't Easy........

So I am trying to take control of several aspects of my life and the update is promising.

Body - I am eating better.  Lost 3kgs (6.6lbs) due to scrapping MOST of my shitty food.  I have a way to go but at least ONE part of this whole body change thing is progressing.

Job - Lots of possibilities and I hope to have good news about that.  At the moment we are at end of financial year - which in a Finance team can be graciously described as hell and chaos in a hand-basket.  But there is stuff on the horizon so fingers crossed.  Although I have to admit, I am finding it difficult to let go of a sure thing - even with chaos and dysfunction - for the possibility of something better.  Hard one to balance that one.

Home Life - Improving.  Bubb and I continue to explore our new standing with each other.  It's surprising - frustrating - reassuring - exciting - terrifying et al.  But it works for us.

When you have Depression - self analysis and re-configuration of your Life Plan can be something that happens a little more regularly than most.  It's a necessary function to keep up with how you're feeling / cycling / improving / managing etc.  This time though it actually feels like I am making some progress.

The other thing I am finding is that I am becoming more comfortable in my fat bod.  Really.  And I don't say that to illicit some sort of sympathy or compassion.  Merely objectively stating a fact.  Not that I want to stay my size - I'll have a heart attack or a massively fatal asthma attack if I do.  But I don't necessarily hate myself.  Progress.

And it's good :)

Now............ all I need to do is get the motivation to finish both my novel and my screenplay.

Oy vey - this self growth stuff does keep one busy............

Shalom

Damien

xox

........RIP...........Heaven Gained An Angel.......................

...................... on this day five years ago.

My husbands mother - "Momma" as I called her - departed this world and went to the next.

I had met her only weeks before her passing - thankfully - and I wouldn't trade the trip for anything.

Momma is intelligent, well read, and had an amazing life. She served in the Navy as the Top Secret Communications Officer (Lieutenant j.g.) to the Chief of Naval Operations during the Kennedy Administration. She had three sons, adopted a daughter, worked in the school system and ultimately - gave me her blessing and gratitude for making her son happy.

I don't want this post to be a sad one so I will share a story about my 2nd day with Momma.

Husband and I went to Denver to visit her. At this time Momma was frail and rather than drinking water, she was fond of eating ice chips. During the first day there my husband was making the ice chips for her, but at one point he was doing something else so I offered to do it.

The next day he asked Momma if she wanted some ice chips and she replied "Yes, please. But I want Damien to do it coz his are better than yours." - I already loved the woman, but this is when she "had" me. I was Ice Boy. So for the rest of the trip *I* was the one responsible for the ice chips. I loved it. And I love her and I am so grateful for the opportunity to meet her and to receive, in person, her blessing.

Momma is no longer with us here, but we feel her presence often. Sometimes when we remember a funny story about her, sometimes when a song comes on, sometimes its just a feeling of her in the room.

I love Momma. And I miss her. I would have loved to have listened to stories of her military service and all the funny things my husband did as he was growing up.

HaShem is taking good care of her now.

This song is for Momma, and my husband whom I am so proud to share my life with.

Thank you me letting me have him Momma :)


It's Your Song- Garth Brooks

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