I remember a conversation a lifetime ago. It went something like that.
– have you ever been suicidal?
– No, have you?
– I don’t know. That’s the point of being suicidal. It’s not about being sad or depressed or disappointed. It’s about void. About not feeling at all.
– I guess I had felt like that but I wouldn’t go that far. Not to the point of being suicidal. I mean if you’re not depressed, why do it?
– Because you’re done with all of it
– But you’re never done. When things go bad..
– No, you’re not getting my point. Things don’t need to go bad. You could be on top of the world and still just lose the meaning of it.
– Yeah, that’s why people need to keep busy with jobs and kids and what not..
– All the attachments and the immediate duties and pleasures are meaningless. Nothing matters. You’re sunk within yourself..
– But if you love yourself
– Has nothing to do with it
– But I mean life is so full of possibilities
– Again, it’s not about being faced with a failure in one scenario. You sound like my psychiatrist, back then. I wanted to hit him. Couldn’t listen to it anymore. He went on about how I could always start new with no pressure. Just hearing about it made me more tired.
– I guess I get it
– You can’t tell a suicidal person all this. When you get to that, when nothing matters, when you are not ashamed or disappointed or offended or late or early or hungry or fat or stupid or tanned or drunk or behind on work or behind on life, you’re just done.
– Yes, I know…
Later in life, I have lived the utter emptiness and I have sunk deep within myself. No hate, no love, no emotions, no people, no books, no life will fill the void. I was done.
I have nothing to tell you today, A., except that there is no rush. Take your time. See what happens. It sounds very cold and shockingly detached. I don’t know what’s in the void. I can’t see your pain and I don’t understand the state you’re in. Who can ever understand?
Just take your time my darling. What’s the rush?