*Trigger warning: Suicide*
Iridescent, I hover in the air, time frozen, all sound muted save the voice of the doctor. I watch as my body lifts, recoils. All heads in the room turn in unison to look at the monitor. Flatline.
“375″ I hear from a distant realm. Cold metal hits my chest, my body lifts again, recoils. Heads bob, a line jumps on the monitor, and the paddles are put away. Darkness.
~*~*~*~*~*~
“I can’t make it in to work today again. I’m still so sick. I’m so sorry,” I hoped the congestion I felt in my nose and chest was apparent to my new boss.
“You’ve missed 3 days already. If you do not come in today, don’t worry about coming back,” the reply was harsh, panicked, unexpected.
I’d only been on the job for a week when I got slammed with pollen that had me flat on my back feeling as if I had been playing on the highway in the middle of the night, bouncing between semis like a pinball machine. I probably should have known better, but I thought I was that valuable.
~*~*~*~*~*~
A different set of faces surround my body this time as I again spend moments weightless, suspended between realities. The paddles are out again, ready to strike. The line is flat. Time freezes. I lift, retreat, arms fall lifeless towards the floor. Heads wave like a pendulum towards the box hanging from the ceiling. Blip. A long slash mars the surface. Blip. Satisfied, the paddles are sent back home, and I succumb to the blackness.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The little pill bottle jingled as I pulled it out of the cabinet. My doctor had prescribed it to me to help with my cold symptoms. It hadn’t worked very well so far, only making me sleep. The 10 milligrams didn’t seem very effective, so I counted them. 1, 2, 5, 7, 10. 100 milligrams should do the trick.
~*~*~*~*~*~
“Everything is up in the air.” Muffled voices just beyond a wall I can’t see through, even in my translucent state. A woman wrapped in burgundy stands over my bed, her head turned sharply to the display still distended from the ceiling. The line is flat across the screen, parallel with the neon green one holding its hand. The door slams open, silently, as more wine covered bodies rush in surrounding the defibrillator. The metal of each paddle is slimed up before they kiss, then separate to grab hold on my chest. I lurch, rise,withdraw once more. A flash of blue from between long lashes is beheld briefly before the body flinches, falters. Pause. The line remains still on the screen. A final jolt and my body springs up, then shrinks away, and the sea of heads nod as the line dances like a swinger in a retro lounge.
~*~*~*~*~*~
“Why are you here?” my voice sounded unnatural, removed. My mother sat in the chair next to my bed, the crackles audible as she fidgeted in the seat.
“They said you tried to kill yourself.”
“They were wrong. I just wanted to feel better.”
“That’s why you told George you took all those pills?”
“Did I? I don’t remember that. I took those pills to feel better and not lose my job. They were only 10 milligrams. I thought I could take more.”
“You had to have your heart jumped 5 times, Stephanie.”
Silence.
Ungratefulness. Resentment.
Why had she come? She didn’t care.
Why couldn’t I be dead?
This week’s prompt: “Everything is up in the air right now.” How does this describe a time in your life?
P.S. I’m living proof that life gets better, no matter how horrible you may think it is right now. If you’ve lost hope and feel you’ve run out of choices, please make one more call 24 hours a day/7 days a week…
1-800-SUICIDE/1-800-273-TALK/ TTY: 1-800-799-4TTY (4889)
This week’s song was Grey Street by Dave Matthews. I require lyrics to be able to participate, and this week’s lyrics hit me hard. It took me back to a dark place in my life in my early 20s when I was probably suffering from PPD and recently removed from my childhood of abuse. The song reminded me much of “She Only” by Great White, which I had on replay back then because it fit me to a T.
