What happens when the emergency brakes

…don’t work anymore?

I dont have the answer yet, so I am hoping that as I type away my feelings it will magically appear.

I was reading a poem by Brenda Shauhnessy, titled “Why I Stayed 1997-2001”, and it talked about the failing relationship between herself and her partner.

It makes me think about our situation. You stay and made it seem that it would always be that way, even though the moments we shared were too often spent expressing why you shouldn’t. Fights for time, respect, admiration. Loving so hard but scared because deep down inside you knew our relationship had an invisible expiration date next to it. I can’t help but wonder if our relationship is made of teflon, or so badly broken that we are numb to any new adversities. Our love is a powerful love, partly because neither one has had a chance to experience something better (?), or at least that is my perspective, but I can’t help to wonder if that is acceptable? Should we be okay with unexceptional? With the fact that every single move we make has to work for the other, even though it never really works for the other?
Home is never really home. No, I don’t believe either one of us is comfortable. We don’t take our shoes off, unpack our bags, decorate. I take responsibility for this. I was never ready for this situation, and I don’t think you were either.

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Suicide by silence

cropped-art-black-black-and-white-branco-bridge-favim-com-114786.jpgThis one is a doooozy.
I am as high as a kite; the world is woozy…
and coming down would be walking into the approaching
waters of a category 5 hurricane, suicide by drowning in my own
obscurity. So, I will just stay up here where I can be lost
and not feel guilty because I can’t find my way. A mental
drifter with no real home or place to stay; calmness forming
because I know that my time is coming up short and I won’t
have to prepare for another race to pretend I am okay. Just
a memory down a timeline where people play like they were
there with me along the way.

I was reluctant to post this one, because I wrote it last week after a binge of Xanax
and Zoloft, trying to take the edge off. In retrospect, I realize how dangerous my
mind was sitting in that moment in time. My life sparks were slowly burning off, one by
one, and I honestly wasn’t afraid of the darkness, should it have me.

I am sharing this because I want someone else who is reading this and can relate to understand that you are NOT alone. Often times, we feel like others don’t care about what we are going through, but really it is because they don’t know how to respond. When someone lacks remembrance that they have a purpose/or they have lost it (and I feel that it is better to understand that we do NOT know what our purpose ..but rather, that we have one period) then it is easier to give up on life.

I see a lot of people letting us know that life for them is ending soon on social media. It breaks my heart because I can relate. I can relate to the cry for help, and I can relate to not wanting to face it/be talked down to about it/have it be minimized. Depression is a real ,REAL thing, and if I can help one other person feel like they need to speak their hardest thoughts then I am here to listen with my whole heart, mind, and soul.

kymmiethewriter@gmail.com.

 

Depression

She who is your closest friend
hugs your heart tight
and long;
too long,
until it beats harder to loosen
the grip.
She loves you more than others
love you. She loves you more than
you love you. Like a birth
mark, she will be there to disfigure
and distinguish you from others,
but can camouflage into your skin
so well that others may see her,
but only if they are paying enough
attention.

A short letter to my Friend, A.

I lost a friend to suicide two days ago. Three days ago, I wouldn’t have called him a friend.
We were more like acquaintances, work associates. Sharing the same everyday “hellos” in the hallway
at work, but masking the pain because feeling alone is too hard to explain to those who need to feel needed.
Well, who knows…we probably felt it for different reasons, but counting down the minutes before we would
self-medicate and buy ourselves time. Your thoughts mimicked mine. Except, you’ve decided to make the move….

I know many people who speak about suicide like it is a leading contender on the list of things to do
if other options don’t pan out. A sobering yet invigorating reminder that we are all tortured souls,
and have the power to end it if we really wanted to. That if the unknowing behind the other side were to be
in fact the opposite then we would be quicker to take the plunge. But, I know that if I were not around,
I wouldn’t be able to see what was next, and that enough is a reason to stay around a little longer,
and hope that there isn’t a moment in time where I decide that the next move doesn’t matter.
That I am okay not seeing it through
and weren’t around to explain myself for the past mistakes that I’ve made.

To my friend that I have lost to suicide two days ago-
I share your torment. I decide to cry with a smile and hide the torment that I have inside. I never knew
just how close I would feel to you, now that you’ve passed on. But just know, that you were never alone…
our spirits were just looking down at the ground as we passed by one another in the hall at work.

With all my heart, I hope you found the healing and peace that makes your smile as real as it is beautiful.

k

Untitled

I think that I was born drunk.

Because, the stumble has always been there. I’m walking; maybe even jogging forward but I must be blacking out because I don’t remember going down this road before, and I see the bruises on my legs and hear the stories whispering around me…

Just 7 days ago, I watched the sun rise for the 11, 680th time. It still lights up my skies but my world remains in the darkness, same shit different day…

truly.

Nothing seems to be changing… Especially me, and as you can imagine that’s fucking scary when you can’t help but remember that your time is running out. Friends and family and love and options and excitement are all running out the door and I am honestly too tired to try and catch them.

Convincing myself that staying in is the new going out, and even though I’m convinced that my girl isn’t being true, I choose to no longer give her a reaction. I just proactively say my goodbye with my head down and continue stumbling towards my come up…