Horse Eden : Does Not Need A Title

I was reminded of this time in my life a long time ago by someone I didn’t know but that didn’t matter. So, I found this old entry. You may take it down if you don’t like it, but don’t comment against it. It may not ever happen to you - or you may think it wouldnt happen to you but maybe somewhere on this site is someone who needs it or hell, maybe I’m just in a dark spiral by myself right now, it doesn’t matter. Just read it if your not faint of heart as some are these days about this stuff.

Today is the first time I ever thought about it. How much easier it would be to give up. It was myself after all that put myself in the predicament that I am now. It was my misjudgments, my decisions. My actions. However, the way I was raised hasn’t made all of those decisions optional. I feel smothered. Trapped my do-gooders trying to mold me into a perfect human by their definition and specifications.

That entire thing was an analogy.

My first home was abusive - majority verbally, I thanked God everyday for that. Sometimes I didn’t think it would remain that way forever - and it was cruel. But the second was like a prison; given one chance with one choice, a, masked and decorated with options b,c, and d. I knew that from the beginning. A IS ALWAYS THE ANSWER, but somehow I still managed to screw up.

I feel like I’m being held to a life against my will. Made to be someone I’m not but also fabricating a person I think I should be and who my friends know me to be. None of which is who I want to be. You know, I used to get so aggravated at how my family pretends to be perfect. Perfect volunteering at the private school all the relevant children - my other four siblings - attend, perfect athletes and coaches, perfect church morals and who always show up in trendy, modest dresses or ties to sing the loudest and “praise” in a way that everyone is supposed to envy over; perfect family, perfect life. I feel as though it is a play and everyone has an important role to keeping the scene in character.

Then you have me, the kid who is just short of the casting roles and they must go out their way to create a part just for them because it’s mandatory that they participate. The kid that has to play a shrub or tree - that’s me.

However, no matter how many times I read the script and practice the part, I always mess it up in the rehearsals. I start strong and as soon as I think I have it finally, I topple over my own feet. It’s got to the point where I’ve been shoved to the back of the stage where my mistakes can’t be seen unless center stage has opened up for a comical intervention. To hide from the humiliation, I do everything to disappear.

In real life, I’m still that kid. I get in trouble for that I have no control over (supposed to be my problem) and I work day and night to try and fix it and earn it- beg for forgiveness and regain acceptance. As soon as I’m doing good, I do something stupid to make them shove me back once again. It’s a never ending cycle that I’m desperate to escape.

I always saw suicide as something ridiculous and I never understood how anyone could do it. How someone could reach a point in their life where the only option to deal with it was death? It wasn’t until today that I understood. In my mind, I’m that kid still and I’ve given up, throwing down the costume and running offstage in tears. No one noticed. You’re probably asking yourself how this relates to you? Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t.

Tonight when I went to youth, I had a realization. I’ve been going to that church as long as everyone else in my family (at the time it was about 2-3 years) and gone to all the same events as they but when I walked inside with my sister, everyone (with the exception of my pastor) looked at me like they’d never seen me before while my sibling strolled straight up to a group of kids and immediately joined the conversations. That’s when it hit me, they all knew her outside of church. From school, helping out and having classes together. Playing sports together. I’m pretty sure at this point they acted as if they didn’t know she had an older sister. I come every service but I go unnoticed.

I felt so out of place and I wanted to shrink out of existence. From being “on the outs” with my family because of my stumbles, I realized that they had gone on without me. The play had gone on unphased, untainted by my perfectly covered up mistakes. I really was an outsider in my own home, unwanted under the exterior of their, “youre one of us,” attitude deep deep down but no one is willing to admit it.

I’ve always wondered how they would react if I one day up and left. Would they be happy to not have that odd ball sitting in the corner, raising everyone’s attention? Or would they worry id go wild and bring down their sparkling public reputation out somewhere in the world that they’d worked so hard to build and polish? But tonight was the first night I thought about it as if I was gone for good. They’d never have to worry about me and my trouble again and continue their lives until I was merely a fuzzy memory in the back of their minds. Finally, the perfect play, the perfect family.

They’d never have to give me a second thought or make arrangements for my schedule which always seemed inconvenient. Especially my work schedule which I always fought to stay and work longer hours in fear of going back to the house where trouble was waiting to strike me down or I’d be unnoticeably outcasted.

In return I would be free of all emotions that controlled my life. I wouldn’t have an anxiety attack just from the thought of going home after school, a public school where violence is an everyday threat. Not just fights, but actual shooter threats and kids being found with knives and razors in their pockets and shoes. I’d rather have stayed in that and take my chances opposed to the hormonal storms brewing not even 30 miles down the road. I would no longer be a disappointment or able to let anyone else down ever again. That’s how I had felt most who contemplate suicide felt.

But tonight, as if my private thoughts had been told to my pastor and youth leader, they took all of us to our classroom and had a special lesson - an open talk rather. I found out that a young women in our church ended her life. No warning signs. No note. After he had got the text, he grabbed all of us and for the next almost two hours we all talked and listened. The other side’s point of view was opened up to me.

Yes, you will be free of your pains but they won’t go away. Instead it’s like they are scooped up and thrown into the face of the first person who cared for you the most. It will drag them into your world of depression and a dark spiral of questions, thinking that their forgotten love was and care wasn’t enough. They stumbled on their job to be your friend and be there for you. They believed they tried to listen and talk to you about your troubles but they fell just before their nose could touch the real issue. Did they say the wrong thing? Did they not say enough? Did they not show they cared enough? Maybe if they had just gotten to the phone fast enough not to miss your last call. If they had just remembered to text you back sooner to confirm those plans.

For those of you who are religious, what would you tell God? The one who created you in his likeness. Believed you were worthy of redemption for your sins so he sent his son to be born and die in the cruelest torments just so you could be forgiven. He created the world, he created you and gave you one life to live and do good. By taking your ability to choose your paths and choosing to end it by your own hand, you are telling them that they weren’t enough. Their power wasn’t good enough to keep you strong and give you strength to fight your battles and burdens. His sacrifice was meager compared to your problems. You may have died a Christian and stand before the mighty Lord and Son to spit in their faces with your decision. It’s a harsh analogy but if you know your faith, you know it’s the harsh truth. If you were indeed saved, sure you won’t be condemned to hell but you will fail to reap the rewards your life and path could have earned you there in the Kingdom as well as on earth. As well as the people you left, you will have questions of your own: who might have you become? Would you have been successful? Maybe you could have gotten married? To whom? How many kids and what would they have looked like? Would you have ever found a dream house? What about that half a million car you wanted, could you have gotten that? You’ll never know if you end it all too soon.

I guess for me to tell that kid it’s time to dry the tears, scrape together the courage and finally try to do something right for their self and change the play or at least hold out until the curtain call because one day my love, the light will go down on this problem and you will see it through. The better.

PM me, 166331

Edited at January 31, 2019 10:10 PM by Arabian Heritage

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