Categories
KINDNESS

Suicide ~ The morning after I killed myself ~

The morning after I killed myself, I woke up. I made myself breakfast in bed. I added salt and pepper to my eggs and used my toast for a cheese and bacon sandwich. I squeezed a grapefruit into a juice glass. I scraped the ashes from the frying pan and rinsed the butter off the counter. I washed the dishes and folded the towels.

The morning after I killed myself, I fell in love. Not with the boy down the street or the middle school principal. Not with the everyday jogger or the grocer who always left the avocados out of the bag. I fell in love with my mother and the way she sat on the floor of my room holding each rock from my collection in her palms until they grew dark with sweat. I fell in love with my father down at the river as he placed my note into a bottle and sent it into the current. With my brother who once believed in unicorns but who now sat in his desk at school trying desperately to believe I still existed.

The morning after I killed myself, I walked the dog. I watched the way her tail twitched when a bird flew by or how her pace quickened at the sight of a cat. I saw the empty space in her eyes when she reached a stick and turned around to greet me so we could play catch but saw nothing but sky in my place. I stood by as strangers stroked her muzzle and she wilted beneath their touch like she did once for mine.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to the neighborsโ€™ yard where I left my footprints in concrete as a two year old and examined how they were already fading. I picked a few daylilies and pulled a few weeds and watched the elderly woman through her window as she read the paper with the news of my death. I saw her husband spit tobacco into the kitchen sink and bring her her daily medication.

The morning after I killed myself, I watched the sun come up. Each orange tree opened like a hand and the kid down the street pointed out a single red cloud to his mother.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to that body in the morgue and tried to talk some sense into her. I told her about the avocados and the stepping stones, the river and her parents. I told her about the sunsets and the dog and the beach.

The morning after I killed myself, I tried to unkill myself, but couldnโ€™t finish what I started.

Processingโ€ฆ
Success! You're on the list.
Advertisements

By Kindness

Life is like a bunch of roses. Some sparkle like raindrops. Some fade when there's no sun. Some just fade away in time. Some dance in many colors. Some drop with hanging wings. Some make you fall in love. The beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Life you can be sure of, you will not get out ALIVE.(sorry about that)

5 replies on “Suicide ~ The morning after I killed myself ~”

Thank you, maybe someone out there may need to hear this story right know. If one person is saved wouldn’t that be wonderful. That why you blog perhaps shalom the ๐Ÿ™Œ๐Ÿ’ซ๐Ÿ’ฅ

Thank you – this is very moving. I know people who have committed suicide and, as a volunteer, I have spoken to many people who are feeling suicidal. I wish they could read this.
Have you come across the book ‘The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse’ by Charlie Mackesy, with illustrations reminiscent of sketches for E H Shephard’s Winnie the Pooh illustrations? It’s beautiful. Here’s a quote: “What’s the bravest thing you’ve ever said?” asked the boy. “Help,” said the horse.
Peace be with you and all who love you.

Comments are closed.