The other day I turned 51. September 13th was my birthday. A year ago on September 13th, I turned 50. Yes, that's simple math.
However, I planned for months to kill myself that day.
I was going to drive to Valley Forge Park in the pre-dawn hours, and end this miserable life. I drove there, and watched the sun come up, but, as I pointed out in a blog entry I wrote while there, I didn't have the courage: I didn't bring the method with me. That method was five sharp knives. I could have, if I wished, gone back to get them. I knew where they were, (since they weren't in my car which I could have sworn I put them there,) but in any case I knew where they were- I could have gone back and gotten them and still made it back to VF before the sun came up and executed my plan... but I didn't. (I threw the knives into the dumpster that day.)
I concluded in the entry that it's because I'm a Coward- despite of everything I know, and despite all that planning, I did not have the courage to execute the plan.
Now, it's a year later.
I have another year of experience living. For example, living with Lisa's death, living barely affording the apartment, living with the Pain. That said, I also have had a year of seeing my daughter grow up... oh wait, I really haven't have I? And I've had a year of great times... yeah I've had some of those- being a bridesmaid in the wedding of dear friends, speaking to groups, seeing dear friends, meeting new people; and I've had a year of... wait a minute. I kind of really didn't do much this year did I?
When it comes down to it, I still work at the bookstore- I couldn't find another job; I'm still barely seeing my daughter and my Wife. What do I do at night? I come home from work, and either I read, I write, or I watch TV. Whoop-dee-doo for my Subaru (to quote an old ad.)
I must say, watching TV with my bestie Linda can be a lot of fun, though.
So the question I've been asking myself for the past couple days, starting the day before my birthday, is "Was it worth it? this extra year?" This extra time; this bonus year, if you will- a full year after I would have been dead.
At this point my body would have been disposed of; at this point most people would have forgotten about me, except for maybe a few; at this point maybe two or three people would still be upset. But the rest, when you say the name Sophie Lynne, they'd say "who?" and that's that.
Thursday, I went to my therapist and we talked about Courage. It is her point that it takes the Supreme amount of courage to transition- to walk out the door as your True self- as a woman; to be subjected to the ridicule; subjected to the abuse that I take Every Day at work. Wherever I am, there is that risk that I am going to take abuse. Now, in some cases, I would just say "put on your big girl panties and take it" but there is always a chance of physical violence, and there's always that chance that I will be killed just for being who I am. (This is Trump's America after all isn't it?) It is her point that I have courage, and yet I won't admit to it, and that I degrade my courage...
And she is correct. I don't see what I did as courage- I really don't. I see it as something I HAD to do- I had to transition. The other option was to blow my head off.
If I had courage, I would have done the latter. If I had the courage to pull that trigger; if I had the courage to bring those knives; if I had the courage to do what in my mind was Necessary.
I have done what was necessary so many times in my life. I have run into those burning buildings. I've crawled into those wrecked cars to save lives- because it had to be done. I accepted the punishment that was due me for drunk driving. I did so many things that I Had to. I HAD to transition. I don't see any of those things as courage, because I truly believe that anyone else in my situation, given the same set of circumstances, would have done the same exact thing. I did what any decent human being would.
Maybe there is a lack of decent human beings.
So. I thought about ALL that has happened this past year. My country fell into the Great Darkness of Trump's fascism. Friends dead. I looked dispassionately at the positives and negatives; the debits and credits of my life.
And, after it all, what did I conclude?
I should've gone back for the Knives.
However, I planned for months to kill myself that day.
Sept 13, 2016
I was going to drive to Valley Forge Park in the pre-dawn hours, and end this miserable life. I drove there, and watched the sun come up, but, as I pointed out in a blog entry I wrote while there, I didn't have the courage: I didn't bring the method with me. That method was five sharp knives. I could have, if I wished, gone back to get them. I knew where they were, (since they weren't in my car which I could have sworn I put them there,) but in any case I knew where they were- I could have gone back and gotten them and still made it back to VF before the sun came up and executed my plan... but I didn't. (I threw the knives into the dumpster that day.)
I concluded in the entry that it's because I'm a Coward- despite of everything I know, and despite all that planning, I did not have the courage to execute the plan.
Now, it's a year later.
I have another year of experience living. For example, living with Lisa's death, living barely affording the apartment, living with the Pain. That said, I also have had a year of seeing my daughter grow up... oh wait, I really haven't have I? And I've had a year of great times... yeah I've had some of those- being a bridesmaid in the wedding of dear friends, speaking to groups, seeing dear friends, meeting new people; and I've had a year of... wait a minute. I kind of really didn't do much this year did I?
When it comes down to it, I still work at the bookstore- I couldn't find another job; I'm still barely seeing my daughter and my Wife. What do I do at night? I come home from work, and either I read, I write, or I watch TV. Whoop-dee-doo for my Subaru (to quote an old ad.)
I must say, watching TV with my bestie Linda can be a lot of fun, though.
Out with Linda, Sept 2017
So the question I've been asking myself for the past couple days, starting the day before my birthday, is "Was it worth it? this extra year?" This extra time; this bonus year, if you will- a full year after I would have been dead.
At this point my body would have been disposed of; at this point most people would have forgotten about me, except for maybe a few; at this point maybe two or three people would still be upset. But the rest, when you say the name Sophie Lynne, they'd say "who?" and that's that.
Thursday, I went to my therapist and we talked about Courage. It is her point that it takes the Supreme amount of courage to transition- to walk out the door as your True self- as a woman; to be subjected to the ridicule; subjected to the abuse that I take Every Day at work. Wherever I am, there is that risk that I am going to take abuse. Now, in some cases, I would just say "put on your big girl panties and take it" but there is always a chance of physical violence, and there's always that chance that I will be killed just for being who I am. (This is Trump's America after all isn't it?) It is her point that I have courage, and yet I won't admit to it, and that I degrade my courage...
And she is correct. I don't see what I did as courage- I really don't. I see it as something I HAD to do- I had to transition. The other option was to blow my head off.
If I had courage, I would have done the latter. If I had the courage to pull that trigger; if I had the courage to bring those knives; if I had the courage to do what in my mind was Necessary.
I have done what was necessary so many times in my life. I have run into those burning buildings. I've crawled into those wrecked cars to save lives- because it had to be done. I accepted the punishment that was due me for drunk driving. I did so many things that I Had to. I HAD to transition. I don't see any of those things as courage, because I truly believe that anyone else in my situation, given the same set of circumstances, would have done the same exact thing. I did what any decent human being would.
Dawn, Sept 13, 2016
Maybe there is a lack of decent human beings.
So. I thought about ALL that has happened this past year. My country fell into the Great Darkness of Trump's fascism. Friends dead. I looked dispassionately at the positives and negatives; the debits and credits of my life.
And, after it all, what did I conclude?
I should've gone back for the Knives.
I know you're tired of me saying this, but Depression is like a funhouse mirror. It magnifies the negative and diminishes the positive. It's patient and relentless, even seductive. But it knows nothing but lies. And deep down, you know that.
ReplyDeleteCourage isn't merely doing what's necessary...when I brush my teeth or take out the trash it isn't courageous. Courage is triumph over fear. And Sophie, the path you're on has given you a lot to fear. Some of it is justified, some of it is not, and I won't presume to debate which is which. But the things you've done--that you do every day living authentically--IS courage. I know you can't see it, but it is.
I had an experience recently that showed me that we're often not aware of the effect we have on others. How we choose to live our lives gets noticed--living authentically, showing kindness, compassion, love and understanding--that's every bit as visible as showing the hatred, and fearmongering that dominates the news. There is a lot of fear in the world, Sophie, as I'm sure you know. But what you don't realize is how much courage you give other people. You made a good decision a year ago.
I don't have answers. I can say I am very glad you are still fighting! And regardless of how limited the time you get to spend with your daughter might be, it is vital to her. My son is grown now and lives far away. He knows about my depression and has told me that losing me would mess him up. Some days that's all I have to cling to. Hugs!
ReplyDeleteNo, those knives would have created a problem for others - and you are too ethical a person to dump your problems on others. Instead, you chose life - with all the "slings and arrows". And that's a decision we all must make on a daily basis.
ReplyDeleteThis evening, I saw the play "Avenue Q" for the second time. And it was just as funny the second time around. The reason I mention this is that it had two songs of note: "It sucks to be me" and "Shadenfreude". We all get the feeling that it sucks to be ourselves. And we all tend to take pleasure at others' suffering. The difference between people like us and the rest of the world is that we choose to try to make our lives better AND not to try to make other people's lives worse.... This requires that a person have "gravitas" - and you have it. You will always be someone special because of "gravitas", even if few people appreciate the quality for what it is....
M
Sophie:
ReplyDeleteSpeaking for your massive support group (don't deny it, a gazillion of us actually do give a sh-t about you, even if we don't live close enough to come around in times of need), it is evident that we need to mark September 12 on our calendars as the start of the annual "Sophie Watch", where we keep you engaged until the toxic annual has passed. But wait . . . that's not enough, we need to make that watch a week long . . . no, that's still not long enough, we need a watch for a month on either side of your annual toxic day. No, still not enough . . . we need six months, a year, multiples of that.
But we can't be with you all the time, and clearly, when you go into your darkest places you hide yourself away from us -- misery doesn't like company after all, it seems.
So I'm actually at a loss here, Sophie Lynn, so I put it back to you. Tell us what we can do to better support you. Tell us -- we who value you and your life/place in the world and in our community -- what we can do to help. Don't leave us with only a memory and an anniversary of the day Sophie joined Lisa. We're too selfish to allow you to be that selfish.
Still pulling for you.
Kindest regards,
Rhonda
The toughest time of the year for me is Aug 30- Sept 17. And Christmas.
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