Tears are freely flowing
❤️ Gabriel ❤️
Tears are freely flowing
❤️ Gabriel ❤️
Now that I have your attention because I used the word NAKED in my title, I’d really rather talk to you about the topic of death by suicide. If Fred’s commentary is correct (no doubt that it is), I have lost 1/2 of you. Uncomfortable discussion? Yes. Stigma? You betcha. People suffering in silence. A tragedy.
You may be wondering why do I? Jilly Willy Chili aka J-Dub have the audacity to write about something she cannot possibly understand. Personally, I have never had any suicidal ideation. The opposite is true in fact as death terrifies me. One of my earliest memories growing up is of sickness. smells. lung cancer. oxygen tanks. tears. death. dying. I am not the happiest person on the planet but I want to live. Desperately so.
I fully admit, I cannot possibly know how getting to that point feels. I do empathize and seek to understand. This writing is from the perspective of someone who was personally affected, almost collateral damage or a loved ones almost suicide. I may or may not be brave enough to write about the terrible awful which has its’ 3rd anniversary in a matter of days. I am writing this to get the thoughts out of my head. If I share then maybe just one person will find a common sentiment, a united cause. I write this to scream from the mountain tops YOU ARE NOT ALONE! Yet I know as much as I scream, I cannot change the way it feels to each individual.
Our neighbors down the street where an Army doctor, his Army nurse wife and their four daughters. The youngest – J – was a year older than me. Her twin sisters and oldest sister were my brothers’ ages. I was a common fixture at their house.
On this particular autumn day in 1970 something, -J-, the twins and I were playing hop scotch. You know the game. Draw chalk squares and number them. Take turns throwing your rock into the square and hop. The goal is to get to the end. We’d spend hours playing. Their German Shepherd Sargent laying in the yard.
As we were playing on this day, we hear a sound that haunts me still. Bang, bang!! followed by a gutteral scream as the front door to the house across the street flies open and out runs E, screaming “Where is your mom? Somebody help me! Please help me!”
We were ordered to my house and up the street we ran. No idea what was going on. Not really understanding the bang, bang. The sirens in the distance getting louder. After a while, scampering back towards their house, yard by yard. Trying to see what was happening. The stretcher, the body, but moving. E’s mom was stil alive.
We never talked about that day afterwards. Like a vacuum sucked the air from the world. Schwoooap. Whispers of course but no explanation. Years later the events of that day would come up. Of course maybe talking about it then would have been gratuitous and serve no purpose. Still I have to think secrets did more harm than good. For the survivors especially who would forever be marked before and after. The kids who’s mom almost died by suicide.
September is National Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. Follow the link https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/ for more information.
Start adding disclaimers to your posts.
Why? You’re not nearly as humorous as you may think.
Purpose of disclaimers: Prevent well meaning readers from texting you about the dangers of walking around outside in your undies.
For the record: I was just kidding folks
That’s not exactly how it happened
My work is mostly fiction … or not 😉
Very loosely based on my life … or not 😉
As always more to come
Danny over at Dream Big, Dream Often is always good for a question or two. This time his question lingers in my brain. Go on, click the link. Take a look at his question. I’ll wait.
Done? Okay let’s continue.
I am very interested in what others think on this topic. Time.
Is time really an illusion?
A construct of man.
Mayhap it is (Said in my Mother Abigail Freemantle voice).
Flashes of the finale of St. Elsewhere’s when an autistic child is shaking his snow globe and the audience learns St. Eligius hospital and its’ inhabitants were all a dream.
Things that make you go hmmm. Things that launch Denzel Washington’s career.
Of course the iconic, time keeps on slippin’ slippin’ slippin’ into the future. Not my favorite Steve Miller band tune but the song fits this theme and will have to do.
I have many of the arts in here – music (the aforementioned Steve Miller Band), literature (the Stand not to be confused with It, the book I read on bed rest many years ago. Hope the It movie we will see this weekend is as good or better than the book, and lastly TV (beloved St. Elsewhere precursor to all the medical dramas that followed). Yes TV is an art. Maybe not the cool kid of art but an example all the same.
This post was sponsored by my mind (that can’t quit thinking) and the sentiment of I might as well write when I can’t sleep and/or the mood strikes.
As always. more to come.