streams of meditation

I was tasked with picking out all of the rocks from the soil in the backyard the first time I thought about killing myself. I was in 4th grade. Suicide seemed like the happiest option, especially when I believed it would make so many people’s lives easier if I merely did not exist.

At the age of 13, my internal agony had reached a new level. I remember journaling and being skeptical about whether or not I would even make it to the age of 14. Just after my 13th birthday I started what became a terrible addiction of self mutilation. Eventually, the counselor at the school I attended noticed my wrists and arms and gave me a choice: I could tell my father or he would. Knowing the better option, as I walked up the steps to the house I grew up in, my father was sitting on the porch swing. The dread of this conversation had made me sick all day. I was 14 when my father started the strip searches, making sure there were no new physical wounds.

In 2009, January 4th had been a frigid Saturday night. I had just finished babysitting and somewhere between their house and mine, I snapped, My emotional pain finally outweighed my coping resources. I was 20 when I woke up in the hospital with pints of cherry flavoured charcoal at the bedside and white gauze dressing my arms.

The events and details leading up to and following my attempt are somewhat trivial. There are reasons, causes, excuses, summaries, and different explanations. There are always more than two sides to every story. But none of that matters. It happened. It exists. My miniature death lives on as a part of my story; a story I am still here to end and create chapters in.

Depression. Most of the time it lives in winter. Sometimes it looks like staying in bed all day. Sometimes it looks like calling in sick to work because the weight of gravity is just too much to handle. Most of the time it looks like a decoration of laughs, great friendships, tiny happinesses, and adventures to the desert – a facade of band aids. And sometimes, it looks like standing naked under pouring water so I can try to hold myself even though I know these hands of mine cannot even hold air.

And then there are days that look like today – a facade of putting on smiles, cooking food, and interacting with people while my insides feel like a controlled burn area gone rogue.

2015 was a year of exploring patience, gentleness, slowing down, learning to feel emotion all over again; a complete dedication to healing. Healing. Fuck. That is one of the hardest journeys I have ever embarked upon. This whole feeling emotion deal is actually really difficult, especially when there has been so much ignored over the years. But, I’m still trying and part of that is recognizing what is happening on the inside. Right now, I know the 4th is two days away and I feel like I am walking a thin tight-rope with my emotions, teetering and swinging violently from side to side. I would be lying if I said that sometimes (especially around this time of year) having a “cease to exist” button would be convenient.

And sometimes, depression looks like a battlefield of giving in and giving up, allowing it to exist. No…maybe to coexist. To be recognized and written about in order to give it a life outside of this body so that it may heal. So that I can honour myself and all of my experiences. Alas, tomorrow will be a new day full of endless chances to do just one thing better. Yes. Tomorrow – a chance where I can learn to love myself just a tiny bit more.

Banksy

There is always hope – Banksy

© /skin/ /ˈpōətrē/

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6 responses to “streams of meditation

  1. When I met you, I knew that you swam in the River Wild. I knew because I too swim those waters. Only those who have swam the treacherous waters of the river can see others who share the rapids. How would you describe to a man who has never seen the demons in the waters? I would like to say that now I always keep my feet firmly on the shore, but the waters still pull me in from time to time. Still, there are those that keep me tethered closer to shore. I have swam the rivers wild with others before. I would like to say that we held each others hands and walked to shore; that would be a lie. There are those that I have lost to the River Wild. There are those that live on as poets and dreamers and teachers. There are few things that the River Wild has taught me. That writing is sometimes too cyclical to heal; sometimes it helps. In a world of the incalculable sometimes is always a better bet than never. That you never swim the rapids alone. There are those who have seen the most violent of the rapids downstream and still survived to tell the tale. That you only drown if you stop fighting. And you have always been a strong swimmer.

  2. When I met you, I knew that you swam in the River Wild. I knew because I too swim those waters. Only those who have swam the treacherous waters of the river can see others who share the rapids. How would you describe to a man who has never seen the demons in the waters? I would like to say that now I always keep my feet firmly on the shore, but the waters still pull me in from time to time. Yet, there are those who keep me tethered closer to shore. I have swam the rivers wild with others before. I would like to say that we held each others hands and walked to shore; that would be a lie. There are those that I have lost to the River Wild. There are those that live on as poets and dreamers and teachers. There are few things that the River Wild has taught me. That writing is sometimes too cyclical to heal; sometimes it helps. In a world of the incalculable sometimes is a better bet than never. That you never swim the rapids alone. There are those who have seen the most violent of the rapids downstream and still survived to tell the tale. There are those who stand on shore ready to help. That you only drown if you stop fighting. Now, I stand far upstream watching from afar. Still, I know that you have always been a strong swimmer.

    • I did swim the River Wild then I floated off with my nose up to the River Tranquility. After the noise up river all stopped I flowed to the River Fascination. There I could see my truth……….that my fight just made the water frothy and made me really tired. Have you seen rainbows and vortices when the sun light glances the water’s surface? The turbulence has to be just right, not too much, not too little, and clarity’s important to see what’s always there.

  3. A few amazing things:

    There are 7.5 billion of us on the planet….and counting. Seems like a lot until you think – how many stars have you seen? Hard to count. The sky never seems to run out of space to put them, we just keep discovering more and more the farther out we can see. This Blue Dot in the Universe, with the 7.5B of us, is pretty weird by comparison to the majority of mass in the Universe. This automatically makes YOU absolutely AMAZING!!!

    What we would consider the least of us living entities, are more complicated than a million of today’s computers put together.

    Thoughts are energy and every thought ever thought still exists .

    You are the captain of hundreds of trillions of intelligent, energetic cells, also hard to count, the farther in we see the more there seems to be and they never run out of space.

    The thing most humans don’t know is – YOU decide how you feel moment to moment which, in turn, determines how your cells feel and interreact. Stress and depression make them feel terrible too, like you, and make them malfunction, maybe into a disease state, if you don’t stop doing that.

    What others think about you doesn’t really matter. What DOES matter is how you think about you and you do ALL your own thinking…..always. Sometimes, it feels that your thoughts are thinking you. This latter statement is one of our biggest FALSE beliefs.

    What makes you breath? Most of your breaths are involuntary even if you have a good, practiced command over your breathing. What makes your heart beat? Completely involuntarily?

    Consider….. You are a Spirit living a human experience with all it’s roses and thorns. Spirit outside a body feels no thorns nor can it smell a rose. With this in mind, the thorns don’t have the same sting and the smell of a rose is sweeter.

    Quantum leaps are uncomfortable. NDE’s are uncomfortable in some way…usually. So, like you said “Love myself just a tiny bit more” turn the tide and stay that direction. Let the cork float up and notice when you begin to pull it down. Notice when you BEGIN to pull it down and stop pulling right then and there. Stop saying all that you wrote before this statement. It makes for a good story but does it lift you up? Moment by moment is more achievable than day by day. Lotta moments in a day, right?

    You have some idea what I’ve been through, at least some of what I’ve had to give up so I do know that letting go is one of the most difficult things we humans do. Watch “Saving Mr Banks”. We’ve all got something to overcome esp in a human life but, individually, we decide whether we are going to overcome it or not. Moment by moment we decide whether we are going to overcome it or not. It’s not something you have to do, rather, it’s a choice….always.

    Hugs!
    Petri

  4. I tried to respond here last night and it wouldn’t take. I have been thinking about this post since you put it up. Petri, I won’t give you advice, I will tell you that what you are sharing reaches into places you can’t imagine. I believe souls can touch on levels people can’t. You put your soul on view. That is a tremendous act, a selfless effort to reach for understanding and care. I hope you get both. I am moved by your mind and the places you allow it to go. Thank you

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