The border of life and death
(this was a piece I’ve written a year ago)
I stand in this border. Because I’m dealing with a person telling me his plans on suicide.
This is the border of life and death. Where joke and seriousness is a blur. Where every cue is unknown and every cue card can fumble out of order. I feel dead. I feel anxious, nervous, angry and upset. These are all the emotions I feel.
And felt those in an instant.
This is stupid. This is simply fucking stupid. This is in honesty. People are dumb sometimes. This isn’t her lack of IQ or anything. It is perfectly explainable due to her mental illness history. But it fucking hurts to watch someone do stupid things. The mirror neurons are killing me right now. I feel so much empathic response to her suicide threats that I feel like I might die.
It’s unknown what her death can result to me. I am concerned to myself. Because she is important to me as a person and as a person who’s there for me in lots of times.
I am blind and uninitiated as to what to expect in a relationship like this. I’m so tired of being the afflicted side in this emotional shit facing. There is a stereotype put against men in this sense.
I am not a stone. I am a fucking clay so flat with all the emotions and shittiness of life and the thought that a girl wants a guy who she can lean on without collapsing on the floor and turning incorporeal is just something I couldn’t fathom.
I’m not particularly sociable. But so do many do. And I deserve this thought, that I worked so hard already to manage my shyness. I am not shy as I don’t talk.
I don’t want to talk because I don’t like people. This should not be surprising and yet it is still the largest complaint to me.
So I don’t know just how many faults do I have in terms of managing relationships or being helpful with people and having compassion or returning gratitude.
I can’t gauge it because all I’ve been told is I’m entitled I’m conceited, I’m a crybaby and nothing of my worries ever matter because the other guy’s worries are even worse.
Now it’s in the other side.
The suicide threat has pulled through.
It’s the end of this chapter. No longer I would trudge this immolation. This is stupid and distressing. Cops please don’t put the blame on me here. I’m definitely not the guy.
It is showing signs for a long time. Maybe I should be away.
I’m not sure, but this is stupid.
I can’t believe this is happening to me and yet there’s a voice calling back inside me that this thing is happening I know it’s happening.
It’s happening and it’s shit. The thing will hit the fan and I would face tremendous anxiety, fear, loathing.
But I know I did well. I saved her, but I’m not sure for how long. But I didn’t want to believe she could pull through.