It is a personal choice.  It is intimate only with the person it whispers to.  No one else can hear it,  no one else would understand the language it speaks anyways.  For each person suffering in its grip there is no way to stifle it.  Talking about it exposes one to ridicule,  it is noted as a weakness.  Judgments are passed,  so frequently by those who will never know that pain.  There is no sympathy for suicide,  it is solely empathy that can speak to another about such inner turmoil.  The cure cannot be found in the bottle of pills sitting in the bathroom cabinet.  Nor is it found in the pages of a self-help book.  Lord knows I’ve looked,  I’ve swallowed everything that was offered out to me.  The simple fact is that it is real.  It is there,  always with you.  Whether prevalent in your thoughts,  or tucked away in the back waiting for you to let your guard down.  It will always be there with you.  It is not your fault that you have these feelings,  it is not wrong,  it simply is.

I fight with these thoughts on a regular basis.  I have what they call suicidal ideation.  Now that sounds like I am fascinated with it,  but I’m not.  It couldn’t be further from the truth.  What it does mean is that I cannot always control my thoughts and feelings,  and that I have an oppressive urge,  longing and desire at times to kill myself.  It is funny saying that,  because I really do not want to kill myself.  I want to live freely like everyone else.  I want to end the pain that boils inside of me,  like a pressure cooker.  Sometimes I just want it to subside.  And it does at time and it does not.  I see a therapist,  I take my pills at bedtime.  But even with the best of care,  and an acute knowledge that dying is not the answer I still suffer with an agonizing hurt.  I cannot cut it out,  I tried that.  I cannot control it with being locked up in a mental ward, I  tried that too,  a few times.  Starving yourself does not work,  I think now that my anorexia was just my way of try to have some control over my life.  Drugging or drinking yourself into oblivion does not work,  I always woke up the next day with the same problems.  Geographical change never worked either,  I was always still there with myself.  Suicidal thoughts are insidious.  They will always come back.

What it is for me now is something that I recognize,  that I pay attention to,  and I honor those feelings.  I listen to them,  and accept that they are there with me.  I reach out to those who may not understand me,  but may comfort me with their presence.  I busy myself with doing something that is bigger then myself,  to show those feelings that there is more going on then just them gnawing away at me.  What caused my having PTSD will never go away,  it is a part of me.  It just is.  It is not your fault.  It is not my fault either,  I never wanted this for myself,  sometimes bad things just happen.  There is not a thing you can do about it.  Just be patient with me,  with us, and understand that I must be with my feelings at times like this,  and that it is okay.  If someone decides that life is too much,  please don’t feel it is something you could have prevented.  Please don’t hate them or be angry because they took this path.  You cannot begin to imagine what a person goes through to reach that point.  Love them for who they were to you,  and what they brought to you.  Understand if you can that it really does hurt that much for some people,  and it is beyond their control.  Depression devours a person,  it does not leave room for escape.  It aches,  it throbs,  it splits your mind in two.  It stands in the way of your loved ones from reaching you,  it takes even the most simple of pleasures and puts it ever so slightly out of your reach.  It blocks the sun,  it grows stronger if you ignore it.  If I believed in hell,  I would say it was just like that,  hell.

By no means do I advocate suicide,  or not seeking the treatment that could help you.  What I am saying is try to understand that some things in life are out of our control.  They are bigger then us,  that is all.  We don’t win every time.  Accepting a person’s choice is really all we have.  Respect their journey,  respect people like myself too,  by no means are any of us weak.  Some of the most courageous people I know are just like me,  suffering in silence because we are afraid to open our mouths and not be understood.  I have had enough rejection,  I don’t need anymore.  I have had enough sorrow,  let me be,  and I’ll find my way home.  Understand that I love you for who you are,  the way you are. Love me the same in return and I’ll know that no matter what I had a friend.  Know that I was your friend too.

Blessings to all who have had suicide touch their life,  be at peace.

Sugar Skully

You came,

I laughed,

You left,

I cried.

Why can’t I feel for me?

Why does it always

Depend on you?

I gave you trust,

You took my pride.

I believed in you,

You taught me falsehoods.

I needed your love,

You made me submit.

I lost all hope,

You made me you.

a bird

An angel to watch over, blind, intwined, suffocating,

Charismatic and endless among tortured beings.

To live, to die, to be set free endangered species i am.

Individuality kills all moral aspects, it consumes what once was a being of.

Of light of darkness, good or evil.

None shall feel the wrath of me.

Addictions, fore comings.

What of individuality stands out.

A sheep or a wolf?

NeitherI am a bird that fly’s at my own will, and soars above the others.

I will nest where I see fit, and answer to nothing but the song in my heart.

Written by: A.L. Photo by: Sugar Skully

We are proud to present a new young artist in our community

Corey Paul

Enjoy

This is my work on vortex math!! PLZ Enjoy

As I stand here making my morning pot of coffee, I reflect back on how coffee has become a barometer of where I am financially, at any given period of my life.

Having grown up in a family that was always struggling for money, I was well aware of the difference between a need and a want.  I may have wanted a new “fashionable” pair of boots, but what I needed was a pair of boots without holes in them.  What I got was my older sister’s last year’s boots, because as the oldest, she got the new pair.  It didn’t matter that the boots still fit her but were too small for me. The oldest got first and the rest got hand me downs.  I’m glad I wasn’t the youngest of 5, because other than Christmas and birthdays, I wouldn’t have known what “new” was.  The term most used in our home was “new to you”.

I digress, I was talking about coffee.  Well, it’s not something that I grew up with at home, but I had friends who were more “upper class” and it seemed to be something that was readily available, so even in my teen years I associated coffee with affluence.

So here’s how the barometer works:

“Faux Coffee” – Struggling from paycheque to paycheque I buy the cheapest coffee I can find and use just enough grounds to make it strong enough to have a hint of coffee.  I don’t throw the grounds out but reuse a second time – topping up the fresh grounds to give me that hint of coffee flavour.  I limit myself to one pot a day. The thought of buying a cup coffee at even the cheapest place, brings back memories of my childhood years of coveting a store bought cake for my birthday, not the home made ones my mother made.

“Fair Coffee” – Work is going well and there is a little disposable income.  I will still buy the cheapest coffee, but use more grounds so it actually tastes like coffee .  I don’t reuse the grounds, but I have a twinge of anxiety, wondering if next week I wished I’d reused them.  I might make a second pot, turn it off when it’s done and “nuke it” later.  I might buy a coffee at the cheapest place, but wonder if that $2.12 couldn’t have been better spent – like a loaf of bread.

“Fine Coffee” – I’m ahead of the game, work is good, I will buy the cheapest beans and grind them myself (makes me feel “urbane”) the mix it with a more expensive name brand.  No reusing grounds, I might even buy a coffee from a “specialty” cafe, remembering of course to bring my punch card, so that I can get a good coffee, even in the “faux coffee” reading.

“Full Flavour Coffee” – I don’t reach this reading often, although I try to spoil myself at Christmas. A gift to myself, top of the line beans ground at home NOT blended with anything else.  I don’t get anxious, at least not Christmas and Boxing day, somehow sanity returns after that and it’s back to my “special” blends.

“Speciality Flavoured Coffee” – In the past 5 years I have only reached this barometer reading two or three times.  I will buy one package of the best Irish Cream or French Vanilla beans.  The first couple of pots I don’t blend, but memories of “faux coffee” days creep in and old habits prevail.

One thing I’m consistent with, no matter what “flavour” my barometer reads– I NEVER THROW OUT COFFEE ONCE IT’S MADE.

So while coffee is my guilty pleasure it’ also a good way to find out how my finances are doing.  All you need to do is ask what my coffee barometer reading is today.

ES