Windpipe Blues

Suicidal plans, thoughts, and ideation are the last resort of a tortured brain that has nothing left to distract itself from when hope is lost, and all other alternatives have faltered. It’s not that the thought of suicide doesn’t terrify me- it’s just the thought of living is just so much more terrifying. I write this through tears because I don’t want to die- but living with this fucking brain has been so hard. I know I need to focus on the good- the positives- that this brain allows me to create words that are more expressive written down than most other humans could muster- yet I don’t write for a living- I just write for the few people who read this blog. And believe me I am grateful for every single one of you- but my dream for writing is bigger than this blog. Maybe my pain comes from not forcing myself to write more- not going all in on writing. Writing should be my daily focus- it’s what I earned my Masters in. It’s how I escape the torture from my mind. I been up since 3:30 AM because my anxiety is through the roof about having to go to work in the morning- and yes I do know I should feel blessed to have a job- but I also know I shouldn’t feel this brutal pain in the middle of my chest for hours before I have to go in. A brutal feeling I know alcohol would cure in a moments notice- also a brutal feeling alcohol would only intensify later on after its initial affects had worn off. The pain of alcohol is never in that first sip- the pain is always afterwards- the pain you inflict on yourself and your loved ones. The pain of despair, agony, and fear that you have fucked up once again and let the world down. You feel weak, sad, and as if you had accidentally drowned a bag full of kittens. The remorse seems like an infinitely powerful reminder to never imbibe those spirits again until that pain creeps back into your chest – a pressure that feels like a vice grip against your windpipe- a surge of black evil energy hovering like a storm cloud above your heart making it hard to beat. Sometimes you wish that energy would just stop it from beating at all- and that vice would just crush your pipe so you no longer had any breath left in your life. Being absent from life seems so pleasant sometimes. But then I realize the selfishness of such a statement- and it does one or two things to you; it either forces more alcohol down that windpipe of yours to drown out those feelings- or it forces you appreciate the beautiful things that are in your life- the people and family who still support you to this day. It makes me appreciate those that read this blog daily and root for my success. But it’s hard not to drown- even when you see a life preserver just inches away. Sometimes it just seems easier to let that preserver slip through your fingers…and embrace that liquid death. Because no matter what that alcohol poison will eventually kill you- It may not take your actual life- but it will take your soul- which is seemingly the worst death of all. But today- I will grab that life preserver and hang on for dear life- because I really want to live no matter how much despair I have to go through to keep living. I will do it today for my family, my soccer players, you my readers, and most importantly myself.