Living is a choice
Every single time
And it’s been awhile
Since I imagined death
I wanted to know
How the water would feel
If I breathed it in
I’ve heard it hurts
But only for a moment
And then I wondered
If it would matter
If it would hurt anyone
And I couldn’t imagine that
That’s worse than death
Because I love people
Even when I don’t feel loved
So I emptied the tub
I put on my jammies
Dried my tears
And told myself
To get a grip
HASTYWORDS 
❤ Glad you chose to live.
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Sometimes I am too
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I understand the sometimes. Thanks Hasty.
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You are a good part of my world. Thank you for staying. And, thank you for writing of that moment of choice so well, both for those who have also had their own “to be or not to be” moments, hours, days, months, or years, and those fortunate enough to have not know it. ❤
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I almost didn’t. And there are few words left when you feel so… I can’t even explain it :-(. You are a good part of my life too. Thank you for always being around to read the words I’m always certain nobody will read.
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No need to explain that feeling – I was there, only once, and long, long ago, but something – my unconscious, Higher Power, Guardian Angel – I don’t know what, froze me in place until the impulse passed. And since then, as a therapist, I’ve spent many hours with people on that cliff edge who also found few words to express it. There are those who, even after the moment, continue to search for the words. In that search, they become poets. It is the only form of language that can come close, and you do it well, and always worth reading.
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Thank you. I needed to hear this. It’s only the second time I’ve let myself imagine just not being and I don’t like it. Mostly because it sounds comfortable in the moment. Like how fire looks so beautiful you want to touch it but you know logically it burns. What happens when that logic is turned off? It’s scary.
Thank you my friend.
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It is scary in a very, very deep place, deeper than ordinary narrow escapes, like the head on wreck that almost happened. It is the kind of fear that Hamlet finds in the “to be or not to be” speech, pondering “in that sleep what dreams might come” [not the exact quote, but close enough]. That passage is Hamlet drawing back his hand that has almost touched the fire, staring at the fire and the hand, amazed and terrified. And he chooses TO BE and feel the slings and arrows and take arms against the sea of troubles. Living really is a choice, and as has been said [Oscar Wilde?], living well is the best revenge, and that is as, or more, true of the enemy called Depression as of any merely human foe.
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Some day you and I are going to need to meet for coffee. I could listen to your brain for hours. Thank you for taking time. Really it’s the best gift we can all give each other 💕
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That would be wonderful.
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Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
HASTY – To Be, yes!
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Your post resonates with my constant battle to find a reason to live , to keep trying, to not give up. Today I choose life, and I’m glad you did too.
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Let’s try hard to keep choosing it. 💕
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I can sense the struggle and agony in your deliverance.
The level of fear and anxiety can be overwhelming. the pain you feel is very real why because your respond enduring, the suffering lets you know you …. Your alive
Well done
https://evolutionofselffeedyourhunger.wordpress.com/2021/01/04/desolation-of-lifes-uncertainty/
Slainte
Primal R.e.p.r
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