Friday 1 September 2006

Eggshells to walk on (unspoken history).

(I don't even know where this came from, so just don't read it. Bridget's meaningless words in an attempt to get through another day. I almost titled this post Suicide Bride, but I didn't want to scare anyone. I was flawed long before my (first, and wow does it feel weird to have to differentiate) husband kicked the crap out of me, just so you know. In case you just fell into my universe and thought I was having trouble letting go, or something.)

Jacob is holding his breath and not straying far out of reach lately. I noticed that.

He's worried and it's needless.

Sort of like my fragility now is essentially needless. Pills are not going to help what's wrong with me, I don't care what the doctors say. The fragility is...uninvited, to say the least.

And it never ventures far.

I hate myself.

There are things I don't write about that would leave you with a skewed impression of me. I'm not such a strong person. I can pretend until the cows come home, but it really isn't there. There's something wired into my brain that allows for little comfort. I'm sad alot. Despair rules my moods and I fight tooth and nail with it every single day. Depression. Chemical. Not so much psychological. Sometimes both. Sometimes so difficult I can't take it anymore. I operate with a coerced, superficial effervescence because I have no choice. It's the only way I can get through the day.

And Jacob is the only person who doesn't run screaming from me when I'm at my worst.

And when I found the bottom of my soul once, he was there. We don't talk about it. He pulled me out of a crimson bathtub and put his bare hands on my wrists to try and stop the bleeding. He called 911 and wrapped me in towels for dignity. He cried and he screamed at me to stay with him, not to die now, not today, not on this day.

I heard him. I heard his voice break and I have never heard him sound like that since.

He blamed Cole every step of the way and he sat by my side in the hospital every moment that he could be there. In those horrible moments he became everything I would ever see in front of me.

Surrounded by death indeed. It's an easy out for a tortured one. A way to escape the pain without wondering when it will return. A difficult acceptance for those who don't know what it's like and an incredible burden that I never asked Jacob to take on, but he did anyway.

Cole made fun of me. He cracked jokes and made ultimatums. He goaded me to try again, if I had the courage, he once dared. I demurred. Jacob was like a light. Only concern. Fear that eventually waned slightly, enough for him to relax a little but if you think the memories ever elude him then you are mistaken. He walks like a haunted man, old in a way beyond his thirty-five years that speaks of vitriolic reflections.

I did that to him and for that, I hate myself even more.

I have made him to feel like this and I'll probably do it again and I don't even know why.

Happiness isn't enough. It should be but I don't see that. God doesn't look after me the way he should. Jacob tries and he is so close and yet he's miles away from me. Probably the closest one though.

But not now. When? I don't know. When it gets too hard. When the kids won't be as touched from my absence, ever the logical girl I remain, yours truly. When I can't feel like there's ever going to be another bright flash. When there's no chance left to climb out of the hole I was born into. I really never expected to see myself make it to this age. Jacob is determined that I will live forever. I want to, I really do. Those are the moments I hold onto dearly, with both hands and my whole heart.

There's your mess. There is what's wrong with me. Clinically depressed. Wired incorrectly. A highly-functioning, albeit self-destructive permanent suicide risk because of something that I didn't cause. No answers and no help because this is how one lives under these circumstances.

It's just the way things are. It's why I stand in a mosaic of broken glass that everyone must cross to touch me, retreating quickly when it becomes excruciating. Watching from a safe distance.

It's why I answer the phone twenty five times a day and say I'm fine. It's why people stop in unannounced constantly and why when things are really bad I am never left alone, everyone swoops in to close ranks, why even when Jacob finds it all too much and takes off he's usually three blocks away or somewhere around the house, quietly trying to be here even when it's so hard.

It's why I won't wear hearing aids so that each day when I get tired of the attention I can tune out easily and blame something else.

I didn't hear that.

It's why Jacob took full responsibility for me a long time ago, stepping in and letting Cole off the hook for me. Why they were grudgingly close. Because Cole wasn't man enough to do what Jacob could, and Cole found that to be a gift because I am a burden. A few risky ventures along Jake's path to find his limits and finally coming to a place in which he chose not to be further than arms length, in case I needed him. I love him. I love him for loving me in spite of myself and choosing to wade further in instead of running away. I love him for saving me from myself and for protecting me from the monster that I am and the demons that chase me that no one else has ever seen. Some question that they exist at all. Those people aren't paying attention. I know.

Except for Jake. He has seen them and he no longer sleeps at night.

Why do I joke about it sometimes? It's all I've got. I can't lean on it as a label or I would no longer be here on earth. The blessings are abundant all around and yet the crushing sadness obliterates everything in it's path and I can't do anything about that. But you can bet when I speak of hanging off the gingerbread it's okay. It's when you're met with silence that you should address your concern. The worrisome times: when I stop writing, talking, listening at all.

It's why when I say I'm a mess it's because...well...I'm a mess. And I'll never know why. But as you can see I am doomed to fail. I don't know when or how, but I do know it's a sure bet. And no, I'm not making threats or promises or trying to predict the future, I'm simply explaining a little more about why certain things are the way they are. Why we struggle, why we hurry up and wait, why everything is a little more effortful or a little more obscure for us than for everyone else.

Bridget won't be around forever you know. I certainly hope I will be, but I stopped making promises like that a very long time ago.

Funny how I can write diversionary words to freak everyone out long enough to make the pills a less than big deal.