The Pendulum

Navigating an Imperfect Life

“There have been times, honestly, in my life that I figured, ‘I’ve had a good run — why not just do this stupid thing, this selfish thing … jump off a cliff into water of indeterminate depth.” Anthony Bourdain

A quick note about this article. I began to write this back in September when I began reading social media posts about “Suicide Awareness” month. I sat down in front of this keyboard knowing I had thoughts and words to share but completely unaware of where it would take me. I formulated this idea of bouncing my own experiences off of these lyrics from the artist Ren. As I wrote I actually became uncomfortable with how personal the “story” was shaping up to be. Get that…an article about suicide and life, too personal. Anyway, I set it aside until the other day as I scrolled through my “draft” file. I’m not sure what prompted me to pick it back up but I did. The result is what you find here. I suppose what you’ll read here is my abbreviated take on suicide, life, demons, mistakes, regrets, and experiences. I’ve made my mistakes, I’ve learned from them, and they have helped shaped me into who I am today but they don’t define me. Stack

“Hi Ren” Video

As the calendar changes from month to month do you check to see what the observance of the month is?

Dry January

Black History Month

Autism Awareness Month

Pride Month

So on and so on….

Too many to list here and more than necessary that’s for damn sure.

As August turned to September I immediately started to see mentions of suicide and Suicide Prevention.

Welcome to Suicide Prevention Month.

I’ll be honest, I either forgot or didn’t know there was a suicide prevention month.

I have a weird relationship with suicide. I suppose that’s the term… “relationship”. Not sure how else I would describe it. It’s something that has always been there in a way.

I can’t tell you the first time I wondered about it. I can tell you it was all self-worth based as a young man. I never felt worthy of love, from myself or others. I learned from a young age that I didn’t matter, that I wasn’t worth it. At least, that’s how I interpreted the lessons life gave. I know the truth lies in the in between but as a young child I could only see it from my self centered view.

I always wondered if it would matter if I was around or not. Would anyone really care if I died? Would life be easier for others if I was dead? Those thoughts invaded my mind as an adolescent. They stuck with me and fueled my reckless decisions as a teenager. Drunk driving, aggression, anger, alcohol, drugs, you name it. I didn’t care how it affected me or what happened to me.

“Adulthood” came quickly. I say that with air-quotes because anyone that can tell you, having a child doesn’t make you an adult. But what it does is give you someone to look at and realize you would do anything for them….to include, stay alive. Hardly the qualifications for being an adult but damned good motivation.

Please don’t think for a minute that I went through life with thoughts of suicide in my head. That’s not how it works. I think this lyric from the artist Ren sums it up well…

As I got older, I realized that there were no real winners
And there were no real losers in psychological warfare
But there were victims and there were students
It wasn't David versus Goliath, it was a pendulum
Eternally swayin' from the dark to the light
And the more intensely that the light shone, the darker the shadow it cast It was never really a battle for me to win, it was an eternal dance

A pendulum of thought. Swaying from the dark to the light and back again. I could go weeks, months, and probably years (though I don’t remember years) without the thoughts creeping in. But it was just this…an eternal dance.

I always knew I had these swings between the light and the dark. Between loving and loathing. Between hope and despair. Between joy and anger.

When that pendulum swung too far into the light the dark would be there…waiting.

I was married and had a second kid. The same feelings came forth, not only would I die for them I’d stay alive for these two.

I swore to myself I’d never be my father. But of course, we tend to become what we were taught. I fought it. I hated him for it. I misunderstood more than anything.

I left my family one day.

I’ll never get rid of that shame and guilt. Never

I’ll also never forget the day I came face to face with suicide from a different angle. One that I was told would be my fault. One that I was told others would be told it was my fault. One that I completely convinced myself would be my fault. One that my actions and mistakes created.

I did what I could to mitigate and prevent that. I took the blame. I took the guilt. I took the anger. Why shouldn’t I? I caused the pain, right?

Again, the pendulum swings.

Hi Ren, I've been taking some time to be distant
I've been taking some time to be still
I've been taking some time to be by myself
And I've spent half my life ill.

Taking that time to be still. Taking that time to be distant. That’s what the thoughts do. They can lay dormant and you think all is good. But dormant is different from dissection. Dissection only comes when you face the thoughts, sit with em, and work on em.

I’ve never done that.

I watched as the ones I love the most felt the pain from my decisions. I watched my daughter react to my choice to leave. I watched her life change because of my stupidity. More guilt added. More shame added. More anger created.

I hurt people. I’m still and always will be embarrassed by my behavior.

I still didn’t deal with it. It just piled on. I justified it by believing I deserved the guilt, the shame, the embarrassment.

I earned it.

I navigated life instead of living it.

I wanted to kill myself. I saw it as the best option, the easiest thing. I’d be more valuable dead than alive. In a weird way I could atone for my mistakes and disappointments.

There were nights I would sit alone in the dark reliving the past. Working up the anger. Bawling and screaming inside. Fists compacted and ready to strike. A punch to the leg, a blow to the head…. the pain I deserved. These shots a sort of pressure relief allowing just enough steam to bleed off. Just enough steam to let the pendulum swing a little to the light.

Never talking about it. That’s not what I did. I kept it in as best as possible.

That is until I used it as a weapon. A fucking weapon.

“Maybe I’ll just kill myself”

I don’t know what made me do it.

That’s not fucking true…. anger, that was it. Anger that it had been used as a tool against me. Anger that I had these thoughts and didn’t understand them. Anger that I’d never felt worthy in life. Anger that I considered myself a failure.

A marriage that was falling apart, in no small part my own fault. I didn’t know how to love. I didn’t know how to accept love. I didn’t know how to communicate. I didn’t know how to express what I needed. I didn’t know I was worthy of what I wanted.

I hated life and wanted to check out. Game over.

I made life miserable for people around me. I made life miserable for myself. I refused to recognize I needed change and I needed TO change. I definitely refused to communicate the need.

I was scared to voice my thoughts and express myself. In my mind, if I did express myself, history would repeat itself. It made me gun-shy to say the least. Say what needed to be said and heard to keep the peace. That can only work for a short time before more resentment piles up. The inevitable happens and the pendulum swings dark again.

You think that you can amputate me?
I am you, you are me, you are I, I am we
We are one, split in two that makes one, so you see
You got to kill you if you wanna kill me.

This I started to believe. The only way to kill the thought was to kill myself. Not realizing that to be the falsehood it is. The thoughts aren’t me. I am not them; they are not me. That’s easy for me to write here and now but then…. I couldn’t see it.

I always thought I’d get to a point where I would follow through. I have always assumed I wouldn’t live long. I never planned to be here past where I am now.

Weird thing happened along the way. I decided to fight it. Try and change it. Change me.

I began to discover that I was worthy. I found I was worthy of being me.

The proverbial hand reaching out through the smoke to bring the darkness to light. Teaching me to open up, be vulnerable, and despite it all…. love myself.

I’m still learning how to be at peace with myself, my past, my mistakes, and my guilt. I have a long road to go before I can say I’m recovered but I’m recovering. That pendulum still swings, thankfully not so wildly. The darkness will always be there. I just know I can beat it. I have before.

So here I am.

And I go by many names also
Some people know me as "hope"
Some people know me as the voice that you hear
When you loosen the noose on the rope
And you know how I know how I know that I'll prosper?
'Cause I stand here beside you today
I have stood in the flames that cremated my brain
And I didn't once flinch or shake. So, cower at the man I've become, when I sing from the top of my lungs
That I won't retire, I'll stand in your fire, inspire the weak to be strong.

At the heart of this is that pendulum, that swing from light to dark and dark to light. The one constant we all have is that we never remain static. That knowledge alone is worth its weight in gold. Recognizing that I won’t always be in the light or in the dark allows me to accept the good and the bad. Allowing for human nature, mistakes, and missteps grants me the grace I so badly need at times. That doesn’t give me free reign to abuse that grace.

The recognition also allows me to realize others are on their own trajectory between the light and the dark. It’s amazing what change comes when you accept that. It’s cliche but true, you never know what someone else is carrying or going through. That same grace I mentioned for myself is required for others. Again, that doesn’t mean you roll over and let someone trample you. Not at all, it means be understanding that we are all humans living out this grand experiment called life.

It was never really a battle for me to win, it was an eternal dance
And like a dance, the more rigid I became, the harder it got
The more I cursed my clumsy footsteps, the more I struggled
So I got older and I learned to relax
And I learned to soften and that dance got easier.

I’ve learned to soften and I’m learning to dance. My two left feet have me guided like a bull in a china shop at times but guided me all the same. Now I’m learning to listen to that rhythm and adjust the steps as needed. I have a long way to go.

The beauty of it though is knowing this is a journey.

A dance

A give and take.

A pendulum.

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