Zander's Inside Voice

Apparently Texas Attorney General and Douche Bag Ken Paxton requested information about how many Texas license holders changed their gender in the last 24 months. This feels so incredibly dangerous. This information isn’t necessary. It’s one thing to be “concerned” about children’s health, but it’s quite another to chase around that information for adults. I only lived in Texas for a brief time, but I will never go back, even to visit. There is nothing worth visiting there.

The suicide of tWitch Boss fills my head today. I struggle every day in some way mentally. I’m not suicidal every day, but it streams across my mind from time to time like a banner flying behind an airplane. “Hey, life is too hard and there’s an easy way out…” And as quick as it flashes through my mind, it disappears because it makes no sense once I give it any logical thought. But some days I lack logical thought and I don’t know how I survive through those days when the banner flashes by.

Today everyone is sharing all this information about suicide and numbers you can call and pleas for people to reach out for help if they are contemplating suicide. I don’t want to be rude, but I am skeptical that anyone really understands what they are saying and sharing. No, I will never reach out when I am deep in my whole and the “kill yourself” banner flies by. I cannot. I can’t even stand up or pick my arms up to reach anything, so I am not reaching for anyone to help. I don’t want to talk to a stranger on some hotline either.

What I want is for the pain to stop, at least temporarily. I don’t want to remember that everything about the outside of me looks nothing like what the inside feels like. I don’t want to think about the horrific shit I have seen and heard in my military days. I don’t want to focus on the death and destruction, or the moral injury I still can’t talk about out loud. I don’t want to think about the kid who had NO ONE to talk to, huge thoughts and emotions that felt messed up, and metric shit ton of trauma before I was 10 years old. I don’t want to think about the beaten down adult who had a miserable home life and an even more miserable work life and cried every day in the car to and from work because it was so hard. When the pain hits hard and I am already low, I want to just curl up and die. I don’t want to be alive anymore. I know the pain will come back to life and it’s never really gone, just out of the way.

So, from my point of view and life experiences, here’s a better way to handle suicide. 1. Love on people you care about. For real. Make them a priority in your life, even if they are down and sad sometimes. You can make a difference. Just sit with them. Eat with them. Don’t leave them alone because it’s too much for you. Get yourself in order and encourage them to seek therapy and get themselves in order. 2. Listen to them when they tell you what hurts for them. Don’t dismiss or minimize what they’re dealing with because it doesn’t look like a big deal to you. 3. If you don’t think you can say the right thing, just hug them. Sit with them and let them cry. Don’t force anything. 4. Sometimes I feel alone in a room full of people, but if just one person sits with me and lets me be open, I know I will be ok. Be that one trustworthy person.

I have had a few people who were there for me over the years. The first serious incident I remember was right after college. I’d written letters, I had a plan, and when it was time for me to leave campus, I ran into someone who was a friend. Not a close friend, but still someone I liked. I didn’t tell her how low I was, but I did tell her I was feeling terrible. She talked to me and encouraged me. I went home, threw away the letters, and all the medicine I had hoarded for my plan. Another time I was an adult, driving home with the kids after a very hard day with my former mother in law. I was planning to open the gun safe and choose one to shoot myself in the head with once I put the kids to bed and I was confident I would be found within an hour or so. If I continued to drive straight, I would reach my neighborhood in about half a mile. I could turn left and get to my parents’ house about a mile after the turn. I chose to turn left and I told my parents everything. My father kept the kids busy while I cried to my mother about how horrible I felt. She took care of me and held me while I sobbed. I went home and did not open the safe.

My friend (and also ex sister-in-law but we still call ourselves family) made my promise that no matter what, if I wanted to hurt myself, I would call her no matter what time it was. I have never called her, but I have been close. Knowing that she really means that and would talk me down from anything has also saved me on some really bad nights.

I haven’t been that close in a couple of years thankfully. I can ignore the pull downward and accept that it’s my unstable mood and/or emotions. I try to think about something good. I try to busy myself with something around the house and let it pass. I know it will pass because it always does. I just need to hang on, ride the weird emotional wave, and get back closer to my happyish normal.