I actually have a second pair on the way, but my prescription is soooooooooo special that it takes weeks to find someone strong enough to grind down the giant coke bottles into something I can wear on my face.
For now I have this pair, which I think are rather adorable and fun. They might not go with everything, but neither do I.
I picked these up earlier this afternoon, part of a really lovely day - and yet....
Okay, from the top:
This morning a friend of mine called to meet her for an impromptu breakfast - fabulous! We had a great time, great diner chow, big laughs --- and she paid! God love her.
Then it was off to pick up the glasses - fabulous! They are fun and I can see well enough to read a book without squinting again! Yessss!
After the glasses it was on to a birthday lunch for Josh, whose birthday is actually Monday. Everyone wish Josh a Happy Birthday! - fabulous! Indian food is far too delicious to be legal.
Then to see Sun for a haircut - fabulous! I love Sun, she always does exactly what I ask her to - or exactly what I really want (not always the same thing).
What is not fabulous: the thoughts I had on my way to all this fabulousness. Waiting on the subway platform for the 6 train.
I don't like that I had these thoughts, and I do NOT like admitting them. But I think it's important to mention it here, because I think it's part of the process. And I'm all about the process; it's what I started this blog for. To help others, and to help myself too (if needs be).
This morning, as the train was coming in, I had some ... urges ... ones that I used to have daily: I thought how infinitely simple it would be to step in front of that train. One step and ....
yeah. believe me, I know. Not one of my finest moments.
Now I do not believe that my medication is losing its curative powers, though I did accidentally miss a dose this week (which NEVER happens) I don't think that has anything to do with it. Also, I am not feeling depressed in any way. In fact I'm feeling pretty damned terrific.
So why would those terrible old thoughts pop into my head?
And worse, why would they seem so appealing?
I think I understand what it is though - at least for me. And I bring it up because it might help someone who hasn't had a chance to work it out for them self, or who might not be strong enough just yet to push those thoughts back where they belong - the past.
I think what it is, is a combination of a couple of things.
1) environment. Subway platforms were always a temptation. Being on one... well, sometimes... it's like a reflexive habit. It's what my brain was used to thinking in that environment and it just popped back to the familiar.
2) anxiety. I'm having a little anxiety at the moment and though I'm not actually flipping, it's there. Just a little low-grade anxiety, nothing horrible.
3) much as I hate to admit it, I think suicidal impulses are not dissimilar to any other addiction. And why wouldn't they be? It's something people generally think about for quite some time before they decide to do. I'm sure some are more impulsive, but I think in my case, and probably a lot of people are like this, suicidal thoughts are with you for a long time before it becomes something you truly feel is an option.
I have no doubt that living with these thoughts creates neural pathways just as any habit does, smoking, drinking, nail-biting... putting the roadblocks up on those pathways isn't so easy as simply saying "no". It's something that was bound to pop back into my brain at some point, and honestly I think I always knew that it might happen.
In fact, last July, I got myself a little safety net, in case thoughts like this should ever become an issue again. I got this tattoo to remind myself that suicide is not an option, and that life is wonderful and worth living - and no matter how bad I may feel I have this reminder of the time I was going to kill myself and then discovered that there is always hope and there is always a way to make your life better - suicide is NOT an option.
When I got this tattoo I thought: it will be there - forever. If I ever ended up in that black pit of depression again I would see it and remember that amazing night that snapped me out of myself enough to get the help I needed.
It didn't occur to me that there might be a more impulsive urge, like on a subway platform, that would not afford me the opportunity to look at that tattoo. Oddly enough, when that urge hit me, the urge to step out, I felt almost as if I were someone else. Someone watching someone else thinking about stepping off and my thoughts - directly on the heels of the 'step out' urge - were "DON'T YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!!!"
Okay I know that sounds like I'm developing split personalities or 'hearing voices', but I'm not that far gone... I promise! That 'other' voice in my head was me. Me now: healthier, saner, safer. The 'step off' voice was me back then: the sad, sick and suicidal.
I'm not thrilled to say that my 'roadblocks' got knocked over this morning on that platform. But I'm really happy to say that they are fully repaired now... or at least I know I can work through it. But to be on the safe side I'm going to steer clear of the 6 train for a little while, you know, just to be sure.
So today actually was fabulous. I got new glasses, and I think I learned to see myself a little more clearly.
All in one day.
Now tell me - Ain't life grand? Why would I ever want to give that up? I don't want to. I want to stay. I want you to stay too. I really do.
Life is grand.
Damned straight it is.