Hanging By a Thread

Last night someone said these words to me, "Does anyone care that I'm sitting at home thinking about killing myself?" A highly charged sentence that can have many different meaning depending upon the person who is saying thems state of mind. They can be a plea for help to escape emotional pain and turmoil. A manipulation for attention and sympathy. A simple way to underline the seriousness of the situation in their mind. Or so many other different little dramas seen on TV, read in a book, lived by them or imagined by them that will express what is inside their mind, heart and soul to you so that you can see what the world is like from their point of view.

Having been in that situation myself, and actually considered taking my own life, I don't think I have asked that question to anyone before during the midst of a deep depression. I don't think I was able to care about what other's thought of because the depression was so incredibley overwhelming and selfish that it took over every facet of my life. Disabled and alone I would often find it ironic that even if I wanted to commit the act, I hadn't the energy so instead would cry or sleep myself through the particulary black times. Thankfully that was many years ago and medication has taken those thoughts from head. Not to say I don't have the occassional, "I want to die" moment, but those are blessedly short and VERY different from suicidal tendencies.

The irony about last nights situation was that after hearing her say that very scary thought to me, I felt so responsible for her. It clicked into an extremely maternal part of me that wanted to just wrap her in my arms and tell her that despite the pain she was feeling, which would be temporary. Everything was going to be alright and that they sun would still rise in the morning. Life, has been very good to me on so many levels and a blessing that I want to share this view with those still struggling. Often it strikes me, that my struggles are not over yet, and perhaps they never will be. However, the hard times have served to make me stronger and convinced me that whatever is thrown my way was meant to serve as a reminder of how precious every moment smelling the fresh air is or wiggling my toes is sand can be. Does this sound too frickin' Pollyanna-ish! I know, I'm making myself want to vomit too!