Chapter 36
The next memory is seeing my Dad.
Sitting next to me is my Dad and he looks very concerned. I can't really imagine what it is like to get a message from your son saying that he is in the emergency room and that the doctors need to stop his heart.
I don't think about things like this.
At all.
The nurse comes in and asks me if there is anything she can get me.
For some reason I start in with the movie quotes from "Fletch".
Yeah I will take a steak sandwich and a steak sandwich. Put it on the Underhill's bill.
It goes way over her head. She actually gets me a steak sandwich and I think that is the greatest thing in the world.
The Doctors can't tell us why my heart did what it did. I know that it was my body's way of saying "enough is enough".
The worst part about it is I don't stop doing what I am doing at all. I am home that night drinking and doing drugs. I don't even question it.
Four days later my heart goes south on me again.
I am in the emergency room once again.
I end up being put on heart meds and blood thinners. The doctors don't want my blood to clot on me and cause a stroke or heart attack. I have to get blood work done quite a bit.
I live in this state of feeling like my heart could just go at any moment.
I am still playing music with my band and we are still playing a ton of shows but we are growing farther and farther apart. I feel completely hopeless. I don't care about a damn thing at all anymore.
Something has to give and It isn't me. I can't stop what I am doing.
No matter how much I hurt I have reached a point that I feel like I deserve the pain. This is my penance. My price.
My fate.
*********************************
We meet at a Shari's restaurant. The whole band for a dinner and a talk. My attitude and my pain has taken its toll on everyone and they think the best thing to do is take a break.
All I hear is "break". As in "Break up".
The thing right now that is my only source of happiness is gone. I went directly from a failed abusive marriage into this band. For the last 3 years of my life I have been doing this. Now I have nothing.
My depression hits a point I never want to see again.
I am tormented inside. I try my best to put a happy front up for the outside world. There is no way I can let people know how much I hurt. I just don't think anyone at all would ever understand.
I come home from work and I sit in front of the TV and I just drink. I sit emotionless for hours on end. I don't want to do anything at all but drink and kill the pain. After a while the drinking and drugs stop killing the pain.
Nothing kills my pain.
Nothing.
Broken and alone I sit in the dark with the gun in my lap. I just cry. I am a wasted life. I am a failure. I have nothing to offer anyone at all. I am an addict and an alcoholic and I hate myself for what I am.
what I have become.
I have never felt true hopelessness before. The moment that you cross over into thinking death would be better than life. Easier to give up than fight. I am afraid to live.
To really live. I am a broken soul filled with so much sin that the guilt weighs down on me every breath I take.
The gun feels hard against my head.
Solid and ungiving.
I am an asshole. A selfish fucking prick. A fucking worthless drug addict who is going to take the easy way out and leave all the wreckage for others to try and figure out.
The why.
Forever the "Why".
The tears flow. I am at the end. One squeeze and its over. The pain ends right now.
Somehow a calm passes through me. A peace. One single thought enters my mind.
The thought of hell eternal.
No chance ever of escaping. I had professed that I believed in God many times in my life. My life did not reflect that belief. Nothing I did reflected that belief. To tell you the truth I don't know what I believed.
Without a single doubt in my mind at the moment I believed that hell was the most real it had ever been.
I could feel the fire.
I don't know how I am going to do it, but I have to give myself a chance.
As I set that gun down I come to the realization that I have to live.
Really live.
Sitting next to me is my Dad and he looks very concerned. I can't really imagine what it is like to get a message from your son saying that he is in the emergency room and that the doctors need to stop his heart.
I don't think about things like this.
At all.
The nurse comes in and asks me if there is anything she can get me.
For some reason I start in with the movie quotes from "Fletch".
Yeah I will take a steak sandwich and a steak sandwich. Put it on the Underhill's bill.
It goes way over her head. She actually gets me a steak sandwich and I think that is the greatest thing in the world.
The Doctors can't tell us why my heart did what it did. I know that it was my body's way of saying "enough is enough".
The worst part about it is I don't stop doing what I am doing at all. I am home that night drinking and doing drugs. I don't even question it.
Four days later my heart goes south on me again.
I am in the emergency room once again.
I end up being put on heart meds and blood thinners. The doctors don't want my blood to clot on me and cause a stroke or heart attack. I have to get blood work done quite a bit.
I live in this state of feeling like my heart could just go at any moment.
I am still playing music with my band and we are still playing a ton of shows but we are growing farther and farther apart. I feel completely hopeless. I don't care about a damn thing at all anymore.
Something has to give and It isn't me. I can't stop what I am doing.
No matter how much I hurt I have reached a point that I feel like I deserve the pain. This is my penance. My price.
My fate.
*********************************
We meet at a Shari's restaurant. The whole band for a dinner and a talk. My attitude and my pain has taken its toll on everyone and they think the best thing to do is take a break.
All I hear is "break". As in "Break up".
The thing right now that is my only source of happiness is gone. I went directly from a failed abusive marriage into this band. For the last 3 years of my life I have been doing this. Now I have nothing.
My depression hits a point I never want to see again.
I am tormented inside. I try my best to put a happy front up for the outside world. There is no way I can let people know how much I hurt. I just don't think anyone at all would ever understand.
I come home from work and I sit in front of the TV and I just drink. I sit emotionless for hours on end. I don't want to do anything at all but drink and kill the pain. After a while the drinking and drugs stop killing the pain.
Nothing kills my pain.
Nothing.
Broken and alone I sit in the dark with the gun in my lap. I just cry. I am a wasted life. I am a failure. I have nothing to offer anyone at all. I am an addict and an alcoholic and I hate myself for what I am.
what I have become.
I have never felt true hopelessness before. The moment that you cross over into thinking death would be better than life. Easier to give up than fight. I am afraid to live.
To really live. I am a broken soul filled with so much sin that the guilt weighs down on me every breath I take.
The gun feels hard against my head.
Solid and ungiving.
I am an asshole. A selfish fucking prick. A fucking worthless drug addict who is going to take the easy way out and leave all the wreckage for others to try and figure out.
The why.
Forever the "Why".
The tears flow. I am at the end. One squeeze and its over. The pain ends right now.
Somehow a calm passes through me. A peace. One single thought enters my mind.
The thought of hell eternal.
No chance ever of escaping. I had professed that I believed in God many times in my life. My life did not reflect that belief. Nothing I did reflected that belief. To tell you the truth I don't know what I believed.
Without a single doubt in my mind at the moment I believed that hell was the most real it had ever been.
I could feel the fire.
I don't know how I am going to do it, but I have to give myself a chance.
As I set that gun down I come to the realization that I have to live.
Really live.
posted by steve at 12:19 PM
7 Comments:
OH man, you left me with goose bumps.
My heart breaks for what you've gone through. I'm so blessed that the Lord grabbed hold of your failing heart, Steve.
I can' twait to read more.
-Jes
Oh, honey, the anger and the pain were there when you sang. The one time I've seen you in the last 10 years you just brushed it off as having to with the ex. I'm sorry. I didn't realize how deep it ran.
I am so proud of you for choosing to live.
"Moonriver..."
I don't even know what to say Steve. I'm so thankful that God was with you right then, in a way that made you choose life. I'm sorry you had to go thru such a dark and lonely time. Drugs and alcohol are such a tool used by satan. I know you realize that now - but at the time it's just a trap.
I read about your yesterdays and see who you are now. God is so awesome. I'm thankful you decided to stay with us, you're kind of important to me ; ). You know what else rocks, besides you, skipping across a bridge in the middle of a freezing night with music and God on your heart and in your soul.
'Let us run the race that is before us and never give up' Hebrews12:1
Praise God for the works He's done in and through you.
Words seem quite inadequate for the story you've related. God bless you and thank you for sharing.
chills!
You have to think of chapter names, right? I would call this one " Cryptic Depression". or " the "Axis Point". Heavy, I took an OD of mussle relaxers one time I can empathise with the worthless, hopeless rage filled life. thank you for your open sharing.I'm sure writing this hurts,in it there will be heeling.
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