June 16, 1994
Bloomsday
"Some of our most precious and greatest gifts come to us badly packaged and poorly wrapped."
Linda B - Sandwich AA Meeting
A month ago today I was laying unconscious on the floor of a room I expected to die in - but I was rescued and saved. Since I was told that there is no medical reason why I am a lived, who rescued me? Who saved me? The reasons why I didn't die are unknown, thus I must consider divine intervention, a miracle from God.
I can accept the miraculous but I don't have to be grateful. What good is life without direction? What good is life without hope? What good is life when one is mired in misery? What good are questions without answers?
Am I better today than I was on that Monday morning? Am I glad I survived? A month ago my life had direction. I had a plan and a goal. I had hope, the hope of death. I am worst today than I was then, closer to death than I was as I laid on the motel floor as my breathing and heart slowed with each passing second. I am in desperate need of hope, of something to believe in, of something to look forward to - something to live for.
Since leaving the hospital I am living under the watchful gaze of everyone I'm around - it's like living in a fish bowl surrounded by eyes. I can't leave the house without being asked where I'm going and what time I'll be back. I understand my parents concerns and worries but I just want to be left alone. And my mother is starting to drive me crazier than I already am - with her endless questions and "know it all" attitude, comments and statements. When I got home last night she asked if I had been out drinking? I told her I went to an AA meeting - she said I smelled of beer. Go figure!
My mind regularly and repeatedly returns to suicide - a gun in hand, a bullet to the brain. A month ago there was no fear of dying, today there is a fear of living. Everyone keeps telling me that I'll get better, that things will get better, that my life will get better. But when? But when cried the hollow man, the solitary soul. Why do I find it easier to die than to live? When will I find within my mind a peaceful room to live in rather than continuing to seek shelter in the solace of suicide?
At Monday's AA meeting Linda spoke about how sometimes our best gifts come poorly wrapped and often arrive when we least expect them. After she spoke a woman named Gloria stood up and said she was going kill herself - and immediately left the meeting. Before her friends could catch up with her, she got into her car, locked the doors and then took an overdose of pills. Someone called the police, an ambulance came and she was taken to Cape Cod Hospital where she had her stomach pumped.
On Wednesday afternoon I saw Gloria sitting on a stonewall by Shawme Pond. I stopped my car and went over to say hello and to see how she was doing. She told me about her deep pain, the pain of loneliness, helplessness and hopelessness. And she told me of her desire to rid herself of this anguish,
and her desperate search to find out what Gd's plans are for her - and being worn down by the weariness of life.
I understood everything she told me because I share her pain, share her desperation, pain and fatigue. In our own way, we are each desperately seeking God and the plan he has for us. If I am to find His plan I must seek simplicity and sincerity, in my prayers and in my life.
Was my spared life a precious gift that was poorly wrapped in my suicide attempt? If God saved my life, when will He rescue me from myself?
3:00pm - Eldredge Library - Chatham, MA
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