Friday, June 11, 2010

Still not quite finished

Fighting off depression and anger again, in about equal amounts. I am getting better, I know I am. It has been months since Cyndie's suicide has seriously bothered me. Not that I forgot about it. Almost every day it pops into my head in one way or another. I cannot get away from her memory entirely, nor do I want to so do. We had children in common and I still love and need them in my life. They are adopted, technically, but in every way my children. Their children are my grandchildren.

I still have anger at the betrayal. At least I think I do. Am I angry at our marriage being betrayed or angry that she left without saying goodbye? That is still the hardest part about suicide. It is what sets it apart from losing loved ones to illness. You do not get to say goodbye.

I have, I believe, come to grips with the balance of enjoying and having a new love and still missing the old. That never seemed to be a problem. It seemed right at the time and now I know it was.

Just wish the anger would leave.

11 comments:

Anonymous said...
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Anonymous said...

I disagree with William.

Aquaria said...

I'm so sorry.

I'm the other end here: A survivor of a suicide attempt.

You have every right to feel betrayed and at a loss to understand why. If it made sense, I'd explain it to you, but it doesn't. I look back, and can't believe how selfish I was. I had a young child (8)--how could I do that to him?

I can do one thing for you, if you can handle it. I can help you figure out why she didn't say goodbye. I know why. I've been there at the brink.

I think you know why, already, though.

JeffreyD said...

Aquaria - I am always willing to listen. I do think I know why she did not say goodbye, deep down I do. She did leave notes, but they did not really address that. Part of me does not want to know, does not want to listen. Part of me wants to keep the anger stoked. Most of me knows that is wrong for me.

I have a good life, caring and tolerant spouse, great kids and grandlings. Yeah, I guess I do know why, but if it does not hurt you too much, would be glad to listen to you and thankful for the help.

Aquaria said...

So she left you a note. I didn't. My fucked up head thought that if I couldn't understand what was wrong with me, why would anybody else? Just go, they'll know what they need to.

So why don't we say goodbye before we go?

It's not anything complicated.

Here's what happened with me: The pain was like an anchor pulling me to the bottom of the sea. Not only my emotions, but my entire body seemed to be suffocating with pain.

Pain like that almost blinds you to the world around you.

But notice I said almost.

Because you don't lose contact with the world completely, unless you're schizophrenic. You're with the world all the way until the end.

Enough to know that if anyone finds out what you're up to, they'll stop you. You know it, even if you lie to yourself that no one cares, you're a burden to them, or whatever excuse gets you through it. It's there, even if it's way in a corner, chained up and gagged.

But what do you do with that knowledge?

You don't reach out, you lie about the crazy in your head, you lie about the pain pulling you under, you put on a show of normalcy, and you wait for that moment when you know you can succeed, hours away from contact with anyone, all alone.

Why do you think we hide or make ourselves unreachable or unstoppable when we decide to take the crazy train to the void? It's so that nobody stops us. We deliberately plan it that way. And we never say a word about it before we go for it.

The pain suicidal people feel does not excuse how we are liars and manipulators and so utterly selfish when we're determined to end our lives.

Did you already suspect this is why Cyndi didn't say goodbye? I think you have. You may even know it already.

It seems like most of the loved ones left behind don't want to think something so awful about someone they cared about so much, who was obviously so pitiful. But it's okay for you to think she was selfish and manipulative, when she was. There is no way to sugarcoat it or deny it.

Facing that is the hardest thing of all, or it was for me.

JeffreyD said...

Aquaria - thank you. You are right, I did/do know why, just hated to face it. Need to think a while, maybe write a bit more. Your help is truly appreciated. I hope it did not hurt you to share.

Aquaria said...

My feelings are immaterial. I have an obligation to help those who must deal with this, from either side. Not enough to become a shrink (I couldn't handle that many stories of pain), but I do what I can, where I can.

If you ever need to talk, drop me a note on the endless thread to contact you. I will get back to you. I'll give you my email if you like, but I hardly ever check it. Maybe you can see it anyway?

Whatever works for you is fine with me.

Anonymous said...

Jeffery I'll add on here since Aquaria did.

I can not pretend to have motivations in common with your your wife, but I found myself in a similar position as well.

In my case now I have the luxury of looking back on myself then, on the options I saw available, and on how sick I had become, and how skewed my perception of what love meant had become.

I realize that I would have left people in that same position.

One thing I'll say selfishly is that I did not think I could live or bear to face the reality of my own decisions.

That I needed to leave, and that they would be just fine.

That I could be replaced, even though I so badly wanted to go,was too painful for me and I was willing to let the other people in life hurt and suffer for their entire lives if it could spare me that experience.

It was wrong of me.

Selfish of me. Cowardly of me. And completely controlling.

And I'm incredibly glad that I didn't end up doing that to people and myself.

However what I will say at the risk of offending you (if this whole post isn't already too far) is that looking back on that situation I realize that I was wrong.

I don't know if an apology from a completely unrelated person would help you, but maybe so I'll say it.

I'm sorry.

Now I look at my life and I have a better life than I ever saw for myself at that point.

I hate the idea that I would have let my personal failings hurt people so badly, and that I romanticized that so much (I did).

But more than anything congrats for moving on. That's what you were supposed to do, but some one made it harder than it should have been.

I can't speak for her, but when I look back I realize if I had been healthy I would have been happy to know that we both could have better lives. I see that now.

You're doing the right thing.

Much love for you and your family.

Anonymous said...

By the way. You may worry that you whine too much but I see you as very emotionally honest.

I perceive that as bravery and admire it a lot.

For the past couple years I've been working pretty hard to be more like that!

JeffreyD said...

Erin, you have never offended me. (smile)

I appreciate what you wrote and am grateful to both you and Aquaria, far more than I can say. Have had some new thoughts, epiphanies if you will, things on the inside are better. Of course, the outside is now falling apart. (smile)

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