Really sorry about the state of this blog, folks. Really. It’s a work in progress – just like I am. (dust, heavy machinery noises; dim views of construction sites I’ve been on in my head – only worse). But hey; how often do you get to see the monkeys in the zoo, eh? Watch ’em go ’round and ’round, fighting each other and flinging poo. LOL! (Children.) But whut the heck: cheap entertainment, eh? Better than a buttered biscuit, I’d say. Or maybe not.
Anyway, the title of this article is exactly what you need to say when someone asks you that question. Cuz’ we all know: yeah, it’s true. We’d love to let it go if it would only let go of US! (Usually said with a feeling of righteous frustration and anger.)
Now this is past history for me (crossing my fingers and hoping for luck!). I’ve sort of ‘let go’, don’t have that suicidal depression day in and day out on and on for years and years – yeah, I know that ol’ “Black Hole” REAL well. And I’m currently moving past the ‘anger’ stage (trying to skip it as much as possible, believing you can’t be happy if you’re mad). Striving for that goal of mine I’ve had for the past 30 years ago: emulating that beggar I saw in India, and being perfectly happy no matter what.
I have another saying. “I’d like to be happy, but I’ll settle on content.” And that’s good enough for me. Being miserable for years at a time taught me content is pretty good compared to, say poverty: The ‘Interesting’ Lifestyle!. LOL! Wanna tour? I’ll bet you do, LO dry L’s. And of course there’s “the pit” again. Yeah – content beats the warts off a frog compared to miserable.
But things like depression, bad feelings, shame, split personalities – they hang around for awhile, ya know? And you know what I mean, you survivors you. We’re all ‘into’ it – not saying that in a disparaging way (meaning bad) – but it SWALLOWS us – that’s what I mean by “into it”. You can’t let go of something that’s got you whole. It’s like Jonah and the whale. Only worse. Ain’t no tonsils to tickle in the cold dark cave of “The Pit”.
Seems hopeless there, too. Not even the spark of hope. Suicidal depression? I know thy name WELL. I remember marking a certain ravine on the Interstate, thinking: “Yeah. There. The car will go through the fence, arc over the ravine – hit the opposite wall – and fall 30 feet on those railroad tracks. That oughta do it.” Or: “That bridge abuttment looks good. Doing 80 miles an hour. Solid concrete – ,” – and feeling – no, fighting to keep myself from driving into it. Every day. Twice a day. On the way home and to work. And there were a lot of bridge abuttments.
After eating a box of sleeping pills (didn’t work; just made me drowsy the next day – I’m weird with drugs; some just go haywire; others don’t work – sigh) – I sorta banned them from the house. Had the wife take all the guns, especially the pistol I sleep with (under my pillow). Large caliber magnum, of course: sweet pistol to do the job. Seen what one does, too, when a friend put one in his mouth and blew his head off. Not a pretty sight. (sigh. Oh well.) No comin’ back from that sh**.
So what do you do when it gets that way? Well – for one thing, you hang onto the hope of having hope someday. For another thing: it might be time to go through the long slow process of therapist, shrink. If in doubt: call the emergency help line! They can give you meds (they usually take 6 weeks to work – if they work) to get ‘the system’ back under (numbed) control. From there . . . well, I cannot dictate your path. Only you know what is right for you, way way deep down. If in doubt: talk to yourself. I mean it quite literally. Or journal. Write something. Take those feelings apart and analyze them. Think “dissection of the head”. If you find yourself asking “why?” – ask yourself 10 times again – until you keep arriving at the core answer, for therein lays the roots and truth.
And maybe, with luck, grit, and determination (which I know is something you survivors have – or else you wouldn’t have gotten this far!) – you’ll pry that ol’ Beast’s mouth open and climb out . . . ready to begin the next step in your own healing process.
Until then: remember what drew you here in the beginning: the title. And use that reply next time someone asks you: “Why won’t you just let it go?”