(Author’s Note: Happy Birthday to me! This entry is dedicated to my brother, to the art of jiu jitsu, and to my love. None may realize it, but they’ve each saved my life.)
Resurrection:
The summer breeze on this fine mid-June day blows over my freshly buzzed scalp as I walk up the hill to Five Rings. I revel in the warmth of the sun and in the chance to once again get on the mat and improve my game. This is definitely a high point in my life.
It’s been over three years since I hit the lowest point in my life. My memories of it are still as vivid as if it happened yesterday, when I let myself think about it:
I can hear the seagulls cry in the distance. The salt spray from the ocean coats my lips and fills my nostrils. The bright sunshine tries to pierce through my closed eyelids. I feel the sand give way beneath my fingers and toes as my muscles begin to relax. This is the first time in years that I can filter each sense so distinctly. I definitely could have chosen a worse place to die. I’ve always loved the beach.
I found out last night that my wife cheated on me. With a ‘friend’ who also just happened to be her meth dealer. She’s been lying to me for years about the drugs. The infidelity was more recent. Or who knows… maybe she’s been sleeping around during our whole marriage. It doesn’t matter anymore, really. All I can seem to do is think about what a chump I’ve been. I really should have known better. So many red flags along the way, from the very beginning ‘til now.
When we met there was so much passion, so much infatuation – I’d never felt that way before. And she needed me so badly. So I gave her everything. My whole life. I took care of her two children, her niece, and her father. Defended her when everyone else abandoned her. All I ever wanted in return was her respect and her love. What I got slowly ate away at my heart, and then finally drove a stake through it.
I went into the casino this morning instead of going to work. It was my last ditch effort, my request to the universe to show me a sign that I still had some unfinished business here in this existence. If I won, I’d start over. Find a new purpose. But I didn’t win. I didn’t want to; wouldn’t have stopped playing until it was all gone anyhow. I saved enough for one last pack of cigarettes and a bottle of sleeping pills.
The fuzziness blurs the edges of my vision and consciousness starts to fade. Soon the pain will end. For me, at least. One last selfish act that will probably destroy everything that I tried to build. But I don’t care. I just want the misery to go away. The crashing of the waves carries me into the unknown.
Darkness overcomes me.
Frantic pounding confuses me. No more sunlight burning. Waves still crashing, but the sirens and voices force them into the background. Someone shoves a tube down my throat and the pain comes crashing back. I’m not dead. After all the failures, you’d think I’d at least get this one right. I curse the paramedic as I recognize him for what he is. I reach out to hug him when I realize what I had almost done.
Over the next few weeks, family and friends that I thought I’d closed out forever return and with the help of therapists convince me that there are still things worth living for. I am still miserable, but I keep waking up each day because I don’t want them to be sad. The medication flattens me out. Time goes by… slowly.
It wasn’t until months later that my brother, Dylan, came to get me away from the hellfires of Southern California. The rains of Oregon slowly started to wash away the past. But my subconscious self still writhed in emotional turmoil. I had no direction. The distance between us did not stop me from thinking about my wife or my sons or the life I had left behind. It would take years for me to ‘move on’.
The memory of the end of that part of my life doesn’t grieve me like it once did. I celebrate that day as a moment of enlightenment. I would not value the amazing things that I have since discovered if I had not been in that dismal predicament. The beauty and kindness that I experience on a daily basis from those that truly care about me shine that much brighter because of that day. The infirmity of my hospitalization make me value my health and ability to roll with my new friends that much more.
I am glad I didn’t die that day. I am committed to one day making a difference in the lives of those that may believe as I once did… that they don’t have anything left to give. For now, I am content to walk up this road and into the gym and focus on becoming someone that I like to be around. Soon enough, I will have the reserves and confidence to share my story with the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment