Except that is was a warmline
Except that I hung up on the hotlines
Afraid I may have said too much and the police would be coming
But too afraid to say, "I won't kill myself" because,
I know that's where the conversation ends.
I need support. I don't want to be screened for suicidal intentions, because sometimes I have them, but I wouldn't be on the phone if that's truly, wholly what I wanted to do. And it never has been truly, with my whole heart what I wanted.
C stayed with me tonight. She could have been anywhere else when she answered that phone.
I told her it was the first time all day I didn't feel crazy.
This is a gift of immeasurable value to me.
Validation seems like the wrong word.
It's more like I want someone in my story - just as appalled and disgusted as I am, and any less feels like the gap between sane and crazy.
A flat, "That's so hard." lands heavy on my chest. The heartbreak of feeling another's heart close to my experience. The fear takes them over and the regurgitation of the training called "what to say to the suicidal person" kicks in and I've never felt further away.
It makes me want to tare down all the schools that teach us how to be with each other and scream
Look Around!
This is inherent.
We cannot give this to institutions.
I know, I know, I get scared too
But please, stay with me.
Please let us help each other remember,
To be with each other is in our bones.
Except that I hung up on the hotlines
Afraid I may have said too much and the police would be coming
But too afraid to say, "I won't kill myself" because,
I know that's where the conversation ends.
I need support. I don't want to be screened for suicidal intentions, because sometimes I have them, but I wouldn't be on the phone if that's truly, wholly what I wanted to do. And it never has been truly, with my whole heart what I wanted.
C stayed with me tonight. She could have been anywhere else when she answered that phone.
I told her it was the first time all day I didn't feel crazy.
This is a gift of immeasurable value to me.
Validation seems like the wrong word.
It's more like I want someone in my story - just as appalled and disgusted as I am, and any less feels like the gap between sane and crazy.
A flat, "That's so hard." lands heavy on my chest. The heartbreak of feeling another's heart close to my experience. The fear takes them over and the regurgitation of the training called "what to say to the suicidal person" kicks in and I've never felt further away.
It makes me want to tare down all the schools that teach us how to be with each other and scream
Look Around!
This is inherent.
We cannot give this to institutions.
I know, I know, I get scared too
But please, stay with me.
Please let us help each other remember,
To be with each other is in our bones.
Comments
Post a Comment