Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Reflections of a Suicide, Part 1

I am putting words to the flow in my head. I took my son to Cub Scouts tonight at Church. As I was driving to Scouts, I noticed these people in their yards picking something out of the bushes. Their yards were perfect! Their cars were clean and shiny, and the man and woman wore shorts with their shirts tucked in them. All of the houses here are like that. All of the people are like that. So, I'm at Church shooting baskets while my son attended his meeting. People I knew were all around me doing their Church stuff, getting into their callings and such. I started to walk around the halls and was looking at the pictures of the Lord, community notices, etc. and reflecting on my growing up here. That 'me' is gone, and the realization hit me so hard. I've been feeling this panic, this crazy 'living' another life, watching the world through my eyes as I would watch a television show. I do not feel connected at all to my family (extended, not sons and wife), connected to Mormonism, connected to the country, connected to humanity. I am none of these things, and the things I recognize as good I try to connect to, such as my religion, but I am drowning because I know, somehow, it is unobtainable for me. It would be so easy not to have familial responsibilities because my disappearance would be...easy. I don't feel sad or crazy about it. It seems that is the only sane solution in this crazy world. Why Islam? Why oil? Why lust for power, money, our fucking lawns...? Disconnect...So I was laying in bed with my wife and all of this coalesced inside and I wanted to write it down so I won't forget. I questioned is this all what we live for? And I meant for myself, but was referring to the man and his perfect house. Are we here just to be born, work to buy stuff, then die? I know the answer to that intellectually, but spiritually I'm just not seeing it. Why put our efforts into that which is corrodable? Why life? Why mortality? When will the wave of hopelessness wash away the grains of sand that is the fleeting seconds of joy in life? Is there no end?

9 Comments:

Anonymous Susan M said...

That's some deep stuff. Have you thought about getting any counselling?

The way you describe mortality reminded me of the song "The Pretender" by Jackson Browne. But there is more to life than all that, you know. A lot more. And some of it is even good. :)

7:02 AM  
Blogger White Man Retarded said...

I know. That blog was one of the many moments I feel at times. It is fleeting, but when it hits, man, it's a doozy. I just happened to be home near the computer. I still feel the same way ideallogically, but emotionally I don't feel the 'end of the world' according to me. Maybe...I will get counseling once I'm sure it won't interfere with providing for the family. In the meantime, it will be interesting.

1:46 PM  
Blogger Pisces Iscariot said...

I guess writing it out is a kind of therapy (when talking about it isn't an option)
I find anger to be quite theraputic too.
Ultimately we are alone with our thought, this does not mean that we cannot reach out and take comfort from our loved ones. Some folk take strength from religion - whatever works for you.
But you are not alone in your turmoil; those folk with their tucked in shirts and perfect lawns are, hopefully taking something from it, and if not, their lives are shallow and not worth thinking about.
The answers are within you.

10:58 PM  
Blogger elasticwaistbandlady said...

I'm planning on picking up Dr.Laura's new book, "Bad Childhood, Good Life". I'll loan it to you when I'm done, Patrick.

5:50 AM  
Anonymous wendela said...

I may be wrong, but I am guessing you are in your late 20's/early 30's. Could it be, in some way, a rite of passage? I distinctly remember going through similar things. Not everyone does, but you, my dear Patrick, are a ponderer, a constant thinker. Once a therapist threw at me the additional info I probably didn't want to hear: the years of "partying" kept me from truly connecting to the maturing process- so if I started, say, at 14, then at 24 I'd practically lost 10 years and was dealing with emotions and observations practically all at once that a "sober" person had years to process. Interesting theory.

Putting so much into the "corrodable" is so common. Once my mom died and I saw all her treasures trashed by others, it gave me a different outlook on what's truly important. And isn't that what our faith/religion should teach us? There's more to life than "stuff" and a perfect lawn. Give your kids and wife a hug. They're what matters.

11:31 AM  
Blogger Moi said...

Amen Wendela.

12:37 PM  
Blogger White Man Retarded said...

I didn't party for years. This theory sounds viable, but what about feeling this way as a child at times? I didn't do any partying until I was 19-20, and then it was only briefly. I know there is more to life than the superficial, I just feel part of the superficial, and I want to stop. I told Ms. Henry I'm probably searching for an ideal I'll never realize on this planet, or sphere of existence. I hug my family all of the time. But the struggle goes on...

12:44 PM  
Blogger White Man Retarded said...

Oh yeah, I'm 34...

12:46 PM  
Blogger wendela said...

Yeah, I was thinking of that after I wrote it, that maybe you didn't party much or while younger. Maybe feeling that way as a kid had something to do with your family. From what you've said, it wasn't easy or anywhere near it- and still isn't. You seem to be doing so much better than most of the family you grew up with- for me, that was a bit of a struggle, a pull (if it makes any sense). I wonder if it's sorta as I felt in the past- wanna be/do better (materialistically and emotionally) but the "past" with them kind of holds me to stay down a notch- knowing none of it should matter, but it still does. As for me, I just think too darn much and my family remained blissfully clueless. I bet elizabeth would have good advice.

12:36 AM  

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