#np: Oblivion by Bastille
At first it seemed like any other Friday evening after close of work. Earlier in the day, I had worried I might close a bit late, but it turned out closing time that day was going to be by 6:00pm (by my work schedule that was early).
Just another Friday, weekend was here and there was going to be enough time to rest my already worn out body after a week long hustle. At 6:00pm, the day was still bright, naturally, I would have been excited hoping to get home early so I can start my weekend early and have enough time to sleep well into late saturday morning.
But that Friday was different. My spirit was down for no particular reason. I wasn’t depressed or anything, probably tending towards depression. I just wasn’t feeling reality.
I pinged a colleague who lives close to the branch to meet me at the bus stop. For the first 30 minutes we stood at the bus stop just talking about anything that came to mind. We talked about everything and anything. I guess his mind too was clouded and he needed to let stuff out to clear his head.
I was basically empty and feeling dull. I didn’t want to go back to an empty big lonely house. We later sat at the bus stop bench till the day got dark. At times I was present, listening and paying attention to the discussion, other times I let my mind drift into a dark abyss. Reality just wasn’t my friend that evening. That feeling you get when you know you are going home to emptiness. Nothing to look forward to.
A kid ran up to me and jumped on my laps. The about 15mins he spent playing while sitting on my laps was pure bliss. See, I love kids so much, so big thanks to the lil kid for helping me feel alive even for a short while.
As we sat talking after the kid went to meet his mum, I saw a bbm update; an old university mate had been shot. How sad! Another life wasted. I sat in silence, trying to take in the information and understand that he’ll never walk this earth again or be seen smiling again. For a few minutes I actually wished we could trade places.
Well, not that I want to die in a brutal or painful manner, I just see death as peaceful, only it brings pain and sorrow to those left behind. Such sadness and pain to family and friends. But with time they’ll heal and move on right?
But really, what’s in this life? Just hustle, hustle, hustle…yea, at times life can be fun but for how long does it really last? Before you know it, another trouble or issue comes up. Honestly, I wish I was never born. Not that I am ungrateful for my life and how far God has brought me, but if I was given a choice, I would choose not to have been born. Life is trouble filled, death is peaceful.
At times, I wish I could clear up everything, put my shit together, set my self right with God 100%, sleep and peacefully die. At least I know at judgement heaven will be my portion. The more I live, the more temptations to fall short of making heaven. But for God’s grace…
The personal wars I have to fight, scars I carry, or having to build a career or make sense out of life…this phase of life though *sigh…
I have always wondered how it feels to get shot (please I don’t want to get shot o!) the moment the bullet hits and penetrates the skin. That very moment it registers that you’ve been shot. The piercing pain, falling to the ground, feeling your blood flowing out and soaking your clothes, the feeling of uncertainty if you’ll survive or die, growing weaker as life flows out of you. Then finally laying still, the pain so sharp and knowing the moment has come.
Is there really time to flash back on your life? The people you love and care about? those you’ve hurt? Things you wish you never did or is there time to figure out why and who shot you? Is there enough time to feel mad and angry at the person? Or is your survival all you get to think and worry about?
I remember lying in the hospital last year when I kept being rushed to the hospital from work various times. What I can remember vividly is the thought I always had each time I was on the hospital bed. All I thought of then was my family and how they’ll feel if I died. Would they be able to take it? My parents, how would they feel losing their child? Would my dad forgive himself for letting me take this job even though he never wanted me to initially? Then I’d break down in tears.
I can’t exactly remember what I always thought of in the car while being rushed to the hospital (I really wish I could),but the first incident, I remember being so scared I was having a stroke because I was going totally numb in my hands, legs and fingers… *scary shit it tell you!
I was in a friend’s place recently. He playfully closed my nose and mouth with his hand for some minutes. I didn’t even struggle to set myself free. I just closed my eyes and let myself go. He stopped and looked at me oddly. I laughed and asked if he thought I would struggle. I then said to him, ‘I doubt I’d beg to live if someone wants to kill me right now. Since I don’t have the mind to commit suicide and then go to hell, I’ll rather someone help me be at peace and commit the crime and also take the responsibility of killing me.’
This reminds me of one episode in Grey’s anatomy where depressed Meredith Grey was drowning but she didn’t bother to struggle or fight to live. Got her in trouble with her husband when she was pulled out of the water though.
I read of people committing suicide by burning themselves, or hanging themselves or even shooting themselves or worse slashing their wrists. Really? Common guys! I think there are less painful and very peaceful ways to off yourself. You could take overdose of sleeping pills and just sleep forever or go to a beautiful beach/ocean and just slide into the water peacefully, let the water take you…feel the coolness of the water against your skin. Just let go and feel free…peacefully, let the water take you, fill your insides and just drown peacefully…no pain.
This is one hell of a messed up post, I know. But truly I feel a lot better letting it out. I probably need serious help…I most definitely do.
A ceiling fan, a chair and a rope…