Greetings Dear Reader,
One of the things I have worked toward all my life is being
sure that every life matters to me.
Since we live in a death-based echo system, the value of life must
become obvious for us to understand our world.
Whilst there is life there is hope whether we admit it or not.
I have also mentioned that one of my great fears has been
being alone. In addition, when I
confessed this fear to some close to me, I found myself left in just that
state. There was advice from friends to
spend time with them when what they could not see was how out of resources I
was. This drove me to an edge which I
have not faced in over two decades.
A few years ago, whilst on vacation I developed a physical
problem that effected my shoulder and neck muscles. My physician prescribed Cyclobenzaprine in
ten milligram tablets as a relaxant for my inability to sleep. It is important to this gratitude story that
one know that I do not get along well with opiates. The strength of Tylenol 3 is enough to send
me to the moon. Cough medicines with opiates
knock me out. I found that taking just one of the Cyclobenzaprine tablets put
me out for at least an entire day.
We come to the heart of the tale. Out of thirty tablets, I
had taken only three over the period of a year.
When I found myself sitting alone in my isolation, I determined to take
them all. For three nights I sat in the
dark holding the bottle of tablets and considering my options.
The first night, as the choice to die grew easier in my
mind, a friend contacted me wanting to talk about some help he needed. The distraction was enough to chase away my
resolve. The second night, after someone
dear to me had promised to see me and instead given me silence, I sat there
again weeping, fearful, and alone. I had
filled my favorite rocks glass with Southern Comfort and had the top off the
bottle of tablets. A neighbor knocked on
my door. We had often interacted in passing. This night, she had brought me some cookies
and a hug. I ate the cookies, drank the
Southern Comfort, and went to sleep.
The third night I was alone again and the day was an
important one to me. It marked a remembrance
that should be beautiful but was now quite sour. I was out of Southern and any other kind of
comfort. I filled the same rocks glass
with water and sat down to die. Someone
I love called me because she was worried about me. I lied and said that I was fine. In my mind though I realized that I was not
fine. I was not OK.
On the fourth day I reached out to someone who had offered
me refuge and began to make the transition to this part of the journey. I realize that I told many people I was fine
when I was not. In those days on the
edge of death I did not think that anyone would care enough to act. I apologize for not being genuine with you.
Those that were nearby and say they do care were in the midst of their own
struggles or acting in ways that betrayed their words.
I still see now, as I withdraw from that edge and am being
stripped down for reset, that I am grateful for the Father sending people to interrupt
my plans. They will not know unless they
read this that they had a part in preserving my life. They helped turn death into a fighting chance
to live. My gratitude story is
two-fold.
The first is for life itself. It is true that whilst there is life there is
hope. I have much more hope today than I
had on this day three months ago. Life
is not easy but it is daily worth living.
My failure to focus on Christ and following him took me to this edge and
once there the final step seems reasonable and easy.
My second gratitude story is for those who act on those
uncertain impulses to check on those who seem fine but you are not certain. Had I chosen to die, many would have been
shocked at the news. They would have
remarked that I always seemed so happy.
The truth is that most of the time I mitigate my pain by showing love to
others. When you feel the urge to reach
out to someone, support him, or ask for his help, do not dismiss it Dear
Reader. It just might be the Father
using you to pull someone back from the edge for one more day.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every
writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a
home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure
store.”
(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
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