I began my week, first thing Monday morning, on a soap box. I stood on that box all through my shower and my morning routine as it slowly grew higher and higher. I was going to get into work, do a couple of things, and during my afternoon slump time, purge all the pent up frustration on this particular topic. But before I could even begin to do that, my train of pent up frustrating thoughts was quickly brought to a halt by one single phone call.
I am constantly trying to decide where I need to draw the line on how much I should share on my journal. Yes, it is my site where I should be able to go to sort through whatever might be running inbetween my thoughts on any particular day. But, at whose expense? Where is that eluding thin line? Since this phone call, I have been wrestling with this question. I haven't posted anything because I decided where I thought that line needed to be drawn. However, now over 24 hrs. past this fateful call, I am still sitting here, sifting through these emotions. I have spoken to my close confidants, thinking that would be sufficient replacement to writing, but still I have these emotions that just don't know where to go. Therefore, I am retesting my line, but with great boundaries because I feel as if I need to put this somewhere and hold it up to others to exam.
This phone call, the one that has ripped at my heart has also been bringing me to the verge of tears. This single phone call informing me of a near death experience of someone I care more about than I realized at the hands of themselves. Each person involved, especially the maker of this call, I carry immense love and care for. The events of that day, and what they felt forced to do just keep replaying themselves over in my mind as I see this person carrying out these acts that almost led to the end of them. As I see this person, doing this act my heart just begins to break knowing what type of pain they were in that brought them to that particular point, at that particular moment. I know how that person might have felt. And since I met them, I have felt an emotional connection as if I had for maybe just an instance walked in that persons shoes. I can remember being in my early twenties, with my whole life ahead of me, but all I could see was what I didn't have rather than what possibilities laid ahead for me. I saw, being the youngest, older siblings who had their own families...husbands and children of their own. Here I am, single with no takers for me feeling like the only people who loved me are those who were biologically obligated to love me. Simply put: they had no choice in the matter and I wanted someone, who with no obligation to me would on their own choose to love me. I can remember feeling that sense of hopelessness. My mom too remembers my feelings as she recalled them tonight. I never considered ending my life over this. But that doesn't mean I have never felt those dark feelings. After my miscarriage they haunted me continuously until I got to a point that they felt peaceful for just a moment. It was a picture of my niece that snapped me out of it. All I could think of at that moment was how she would feel and how that would cause so much damage in her life. She adores me as much as I adore her. For goodness sakes, she will tell a complete stranger how she is my princess. And for me to just abandon her? I couldn't bare that pain from above. The will that I had that day to not follow those dark thoughts don't define me as a stronger person as this individual. Instead I hurt for them. I hurt because all I want to do is find a magic serum that would allow reason to mix with the irrational and the thought of living to feel more peaceful than the thought of dying.
I don't know where else to go with this right now as it is midnight and my morning/mid-day/evening sickness is beginning to take a toll. But for now, I will end with this thought: To you, dear little Cherub, feeling alone in this world, there is one person who, with out biological obligation, is praising God tonight that you survived. Hold strong dear one.