The thought of dying, alone, in the woods, in the midst of my breakdown, evidently, did not scare me, but the thought of dying alone, lost and afraid, in the years since the breakdown, has.
I was never alone. And, I am not alone. And neither are you. We are here, all of US, together on this great big blue green marble, and something tells me that, yes, there might be “something” after… Maybe not a retention of our conscious “rationality,” but something… From energy you came and to energy you shall return, to paraphrase another phrase, which, of course, is true in its own right.
But, irregardless, if to and from dust or energy is our fate, it sure beats the true purgatory, or, dare I say, hell, of existing in a limbo state between a once vital past, where I trained for and ran marathons, and helped others do the same, before the breakdown, and a neverending present of sleepless nights and non-waking mornings that characterized my life for so many years since. Part of that was the medication, perhaps, but part of it was also the complete and total sapping of my life force and energy that I distinctly felt occuring as I awaited my release from the hospital. Both times. (Yes, I was hospitalized twice during my acute psychotic episode. You think I would have learned my “lesson” the first time. But, really, what “lesson”? That’s for the “haters” to say, and those of us who have been through something like this get enough of that. Often, it’s what put us in the hospital in the first place, as far as I’m concerned.)
But what is TRULY needed is not 80 mg of psychotropics and a white lab coat monitoring your “compliance,” though those things play a role, but a warm, gentle “embrace,” not always, or perhaps ever, physically, depending on the nature of our own distinct trauma, and a kind word, and patience, and the option of “flexibility” in whatever manner in which we need it. I can say this from first hand experience both with some authority and with some hundred thousand dollars in school debt to prove it through my attempts to ram my “round peg” of post-breakdown mal-adjustment and awkwardness into the “square hole” of a “supposed-to-be” two-year graduate program following the one I withdrew from because of the breakdown (please excuse the innuendo, ahem). These things require time and patience, and, I find, they still do, despite the timelines that others may force upon you. So, if by some chance, you, now or later, are reading this and you’ve had an experience such as I have had (and they are NEVER the same…), please be kind and patient with yourself. And take time to do things that help YOU to work through whatever it is you need to, whether it be writing, like I am doing here, or taking a stroll through the woods… Sans the “red pill,” the timelines of others, or even the one you may have inside your head… There’s enough pressure in this world without those things… Something you already know, all too well…
So, go ahead and walk the path, because there will be a clearing… Or “something”…
Even if not yet…
Observations from the Brink 