Medicated


Okay, I might have mentioned this before, but you know Pink Floyd’s Comfortably Numb?

That song does something to me. Transports me to another time, but also reminds me of the…hmm, I don’t know how to describe it.

If anyone reading this has been on medication, particularly pain and anxiety relievers, for an extended amount of time, maybe you understand. There is a feeling captured in that song. Or rather a lack of feeling that is difficult to describe. It truly is a comfortably numb feeling. Important things seem less significant, thoughts, feelings, life in general becomes hazy, and it doesn’t matter. You don’t miss clarity of thought. You’re comfortable.

Anyway, I don’t know why I’m thinking about this. Maybe because I’m back on pain meds since the surgery. Medication and I have a love/hate relationship. I woke up with the song in my mind, and the inability to focus on what I really need to be doing, so I figured I’d write about it. Get it out of my head so I can focus on other things. Thanks for giving me a sounding board.

Thank you: Part Two


I kept it buried deep inside
  The secret pain was easy to hide.
I laughed, I smiled, I loved, I lost,
  No one knew the infinite cost.
Of trying just to stay alive.
  Of holding fears and doubts inside.
It was easy just to fake a smile
  Easy to pretend a while.
But little did the whole world know
  That loneliness doesn’t always show.
My life, my lies, had torn apart
  The fragile pieces of my heart.
I’d been so close to giving up
  I’d tasted of that poison cup.
But then one day I failed to stand.
  And someone reached out a helping hand.
The funny thing, I came to see
 Was that they were just as broken as me.
They needed me just as much
  As I needed their loving touch.
Our pain can be the ties that bind
  The fragments of our hearts and minds.
A life was saved, an illusion tossed
  Heartbreak might come, but not all is lost.

Sorry, I couldn’t really post everything I wanted to say earlier. Bats is alive…okay…thankful. I am too.

I knew that there were plenty of bloggers who care, but yesterday proved that fact. Over 300 people viewed my posts about Bats, and many of you went on her blog and commented…just incredible things. I don’t really know what to say other than thank you. You have played a huge part in Bats life, and in mine. I have mentioned in the past that over the years I have become quite cynical of life and people in general. I see a lot of the good in people, but I also see a lot of the fake side of people. Since I am disabled, people in general are nice to me. That is good, and I really appreciate it, but watching how people treat me verses others is quite interesting, to say the least.

We all have chains. Some of mine are pretty obvious, like the wheelchair or walker, but others lie under the surface. Those hidden chains can be more painful and destructive than any physical quality I have. As we’ve all seen, other people are struggling to break free of some of their own pain. Their own cages. Sometimes the easiest, and most definite way to break free of something seems to be suicide. That battle to give in to the “escape forever” route is a constant struggle for me, and I’m sure others. It isn’t something that you can just “get over”. It isn’t “selfish” when one of the biggest reasons you want to do it, is because you think people really would be better off without you. Suicide, or other self-destructive things are not just people being freaks, or people being stupid, or whatever. It is an outward manifestation of an internal struggle that goes way deeper than any particular “cause”.

The thing about blogging is that each day people cross our paths that we often don’t think about other than the number of comments on a post, or how many people followed your blog. This is a luxury I don’t want to take. It is hard to connect with everyone who steps briefly into our lives, but sometimes it is good for us to try. My blog is not designed for self-help or a support group. It is not something that people would pull up right away if they did a search for suicide, or pain, or heartbreak; but I have had enough experience with these issues to know how to talk to someone else who is struggling. I also know enough about those subjects to know that sometimes it is best not to talk, but to just listen, or even just be there. I’d like to think that each of us has something that we know a little too well. Our hardships don’t have to just stay buried. They don’t have to be chains that hold us back. They can be chains that connect us to other people who can help us or need us to help them. I hope that makes sense.

Forever grateful, blogger number 5,186,209 Rebekah. Another wounded soul.

Help please


We have a friend who is hurting. Broken really. She put a cry for help out on her blog last night. Although a few of us saw, and tried to help, she hasn’t been active at all for the last 10 hours or so. She didn’t think anyone cared, but I know that even if you don’t personally know her, we are a community that cares deeply for each other.

I don’t know if she is okay. I don’t even know if she is alive, but if she is, she needs to know we see her. Please take a minute and let her know she is not alone.

http://bats0711.wordpress.com/

Hobbling Around the Issues: Assisted Suicide


There are some things in life that are difficult for me to understand. This issue is one of them.

I can’t understand why it is ok to put our dog out of its misery when it is old and can hardly eat, but when it comes to our grandfather…well, that’s just inhuman. We explain to our kids how “the right thing to do” is to put our cat down after being hit by a car, but when our loved one can only speak long enough to beg us to help them go quickly…we are appalled by the thought of “murdering” them.

We (as a society) say that it is okay to have an abortion, but when our own grandmother, who has lived a long, full, dignified life is now unable to control her bowels and bladder, not to mention her mind…it is best to just clean her up and pretend that she wants to exist as long as possible in a hospital room that she is frightened of each morning.

On movies and in reality, we often hear people say “at least he/she died doing what he or she loved.” Meanwhile, the father who gave 30 years of his life in service to our country is in so much pain that he can’t even see or hear his kids because his head is thrown back in screams of horror…it would have been okay if he died in the war, but we are going to make his life as long as possible here on our soil.

It is one thing when our loved one wants to fight, wants to live, tries to deal with the pain since it means they can still see their family and friends, etc.

When people are in horrible pain; when they are scared of each new day and in brief moments of sanity, beg us to kill them; when days or weeks of helpless humiliation are all they have left before they pass away…how can we ignore the real issue and only focus on serving our own purposes. Are we really that selfish? If you think the quality of life is not important…well, I don’t understand that.

Maybe you can help…