the life of zooey who happens to be Bipolar 2
I write this like others sing a song out loud that they can’t get out of their head. Perhaps this will close this story for me.
Why the HELL did I read that?
There’s been an article titled, “The big sleep.” published and reposted over the past few days. A few of my friends on Facebook shared. One of my good friends and fellow blogger, Rory of Terminally Intelligent, published it on his Facebook page.
I knew looking at the first few lines of the story I should not read it. I could feel it in my gut. My Spidey senses rang very true to my ears. I. Fucking. Knew. Better.
Yet, I read it.
Not much sets of my triggers, but this one did. I warn you…
This will be a trigger article for some who suffer with depression and have ever thought of suicide, like me.
Description, which may also be a trigger point: The article talked about the suicide pact between a husband and wife made decades earlier and talked about throughout their lives. Their kids new it would come one day. Peter and Pat Shaw decided once they hit the point in their life where there was nowhere to go but down, such as mental faculties and health, they would choose their day to die.
And they did.
The article went on to celebrate their lives and accomplishments. Then it got down to the day before. The affect of that last night spent with their daughters. The day of the event and the happenings up to the time when the daughters left, as to not be accused of assisted suicide.
The act itself down to details of their last minutes.
The aftermath of finding them and the unfortunate public scrutiny.
The grief their daughters are still experiencing.
The thing is…their last day. Their last hours. Their plan. They rang very true for me. It was a rational suicide. But aren’t those depressed have rational logic behind their decision, well, at least in their thinking at the moment? It’s hard in that condition to distinguish between rational and irrational.
I cried. I couldn’t help the sadness that came with reading this. My husband helps me by just being there, hugging me and letting me get it out of my system. My ex would hate when I cried and find passive aggressive ways to make me stop. I am thankful for Stan’s support every single day of our marriage.
I cried for them and their daughters. I cried for fear of being in decline for years as they feared. I cried wishing I wasn’t so old now and getting older. I cried for what memories it brought up in me from recent years past where my plans to end my life were pretty detailed, like these.
This morning, I finally showered after 3 days and did stuff around the house. I haven’t been sleeping well or existing well due to some bad vertigo, but I was determined not to dwell on this story and not get out into the world and live.
Take care. Read it with caution. The big sleep by Julia Medew
Something to leave a happy taste in your mouth, courtesy of Lucy, who played it over and over in the car today. Thank you, Lucy. ❤