Tonight I nearly took my own life. In this moment I regret that I didn’t. In that moment–the moment I turned back towards the shore–I realized how easy it would’ve been. The water felt warm and inviting and encouraged me to come down into the depths. I wanted nothing more than to accept that invitation.
Life gets extremely hard. Love–the act of loving and being in love–makes me so vulnerable that the idea of all of that love falling apart is too much to stand. Tonight I had to face the question of whether or not I am actually in love. I didn’t have an answer and I still don’t. I know the positive aspects of it have drained out of me like a deflated balloon. That is not her fault. I have lost any real sense of self (as discussed) and I believe that impacts everything around me. That is part of what dragged me into the ocean. Cowardice is another part of it.
Yes, life gets extremely hard and I was fully ready to surrender. I’m a 45 year old man with the dream partner and a good job and a chance to be a very good author and I was and still am ready to surrender. Beneath the surface of all of it is a current of rot that makes all of it feel like it can and will crumble.
So, when I realized how much pain I put the person I love most through on a daily basis and how hopeless I felt to ever change anything about my life to a better state–to a place where there was no rot–I gave up. I walked into the ocean and tried to give myself to the waters. The only thing that stopped me was that I didn’t want her to watch me die.
Now what?