The Beauty and Grotesque of a Common Life - Tuesday

from the suicide attempt survivor's journal

Somehow I made it and discovered that I underestimated the animal survival instinct.Weak and unable to retain food, I somehow managed to pass the weekend and got myself out of the bed on Sunday evening. My crazy neighbour was listening to some rap music on his incredibly powerful speakers, so my only thought was that that was no soundtrack for giving in. Pulling myself together to listen to some extreme metal music did the trick. The need to retaliate was stronger than the incline towards self abandonment. If only my therapist knew that. I am focused now, focused enough to start a new week of hating and despising everything around me. We'll see how long it will last.

These last days seemed to be some sort of an emotional hurricane devastating

the frail crops of my newly ploughed field. Swaying between anxiety, firm determination, brittle-mindfulness, then back to ardent drive felt quite as riding the emotional roller-coaster. I'm not sure how all this is going to serve me once I begin to retrospect and evaluate the charge contained in these states, but somehow it has to take me further on the path towards the final resolution. "To be or not to be" - this Shakespearean phrase synthesizes way better the human condition, my condition, than any philosophical or psychological treatise.

I'm Camus' stranger caught between Sartre's being and nothingness. I am my voice wanting to be heard. I am my desire to go down in flames. I am today. I'll try to start here. Today. Again.

                                                            "Lost is the hope of those,
                                                             Who walk the moors with pain in heart"

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