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

14 thoughts on “LIVING IS A CHOICE

  1. 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. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

    • 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.

      Liked by 1 person

      • 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.

        Liked by 1 person

        • 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.

          Liked by 1 person

          • 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.

            Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s