Old Friend Returns

I’m about to die. I can feel it. It’s coming. I’ve felt Death approaching. I’ve seen so much of it in my dreams. I’ve seen me walking away into the distance never to return. I’ve seen my heart stabbed through my back. I’ve seen me dive into the most beautiful sea until the lights went out. I’ve seen the damp old tree and its ugly crooked branch again, waiting for me. I’ve seen a horseman charge at me in the middle of a grand battle, strike me in my chest, through my armour, and through the heart, his lance breaking off leaving me impaled, barely alive, to rot on the battlefield. I’ve heard a gunshot followed by endless silence. I’ve seen countless people watching me perform my final act before I throw myself into Death’s embrace. I don’t even remember all of it.

I’ve been in Death’s embrace once before. It was a done deal, yet I mingled out of it. I crawled out of the Underground for another chance at life. And Death let me do it for I was young, too young to be dead. But now Death announced its arrival and with it gave me a choice. To wait for Death to come collect or pay the due on my own terms.

But you are delusional, you’ll say. Perhaps. I’ve ignored these “delusions” before and it brought me suffering because by ignoring them I ignored my deepest self. I’m gonna listen this time. Am I really about to die, or is it some kind of symbolism? Let’s hope for the latter but assume the former.

The sum of my life is a lot of suffering and some joy. You may call me a pessimist or worse, but I am the furthest from being so. I can see clearly that all I ever did, no matter my intentions, resulted in some kind of unnecessary pain and suffering to other people, especially those who cared about me the most. Perhaps I’ve been given that second chance to correct things when I fell and rose back out of the Underworld. Maybe I was to become a healer instead of a destroyer. That is, at least, how I saw it. But now it’s too late and I realise I haven’t done anything of note for people to remember me by. I do not want to be remembered for the pain I’ve caused. Allow me then this final act of vanity. Let this be my last wish. I will write down these fragments of who I am for everyone to see.

I’ve been judged already by the only person whose judgment matters, myself. Your opinion doesn’t matter to me, but I wish for understanding. You can consider me to be egotistic, arrogant, self-centered prick that thinks he’s better than others, you might say I’m this way because my parents never loved me or some girl messed me up, that I’m an evil misogynist, or you can call me just another of those sissy emo nihilist kids, or one of those new age-y highly sensitive indigo kids, or you might just think I’m overcomplicating simple matters or just like being annoying. If so then you’re right. You got me all figured out. Stop reading and go live your life now.

If you’re still here this is what we’re doing. There is a choice I have to make now. To wait for Death or to leave on my own terms. I’ve been thinking about this a lot and I have no solution (yet). I know I’ve caused enough suffering in life, so I do not wish to do so in death. I wish to be able to fade away so that nobody is entirely sure where I am and what has happened to me. I want people to think I went away somewhere and that I might simply come back one day, like the family cat, so that nobody mourns, nobody cries, and eventually, everybody forgets and carries on living their lives. Because why have them cry? I also feel the need to give something to the world. Maybe die by doing a grand heroic gesture. But there are no heroic gestures to be done these days. Besides, I’m not the type to do grand gestures. They always seem fake. I’d rather do something silently in the background.

What I will do is write down everything I feel I have to write down before I’m gone. Will Death catch me before I finish? Will I change my mind and end it myself? Will this all just end up being one big therapy session for me? We’ll see. I just know that if I am not destined for something great then I have no reason to be here. All or nothing. Mediocrity is death.

There’s a problem about me killing myself though. I’ve made a pledge never to do it. Let me tell you about it.

The Pledge

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1. Coming of Age

I do not know where exactly to begin. Perhaps the moment I first realised that something was terribly wrong in, what seemed on the surface, my perfect life, or, to be more precise, who I thought I was.

My 18th birthday was approaching. It was September and my senior year of high school just began. My coming-of-age. A special event by everyone’s standards. It marks the moment I become an adult. Accordingly, my parents offered to throw me a party.

I refused. I did not feel like doing it. I never celebrated birthdays. My go-to argument was the family situation that made it almost impossible to even invite friends over, let alone have a larger gathering. I never wanted to do anything to highlight such things because I wanted to avoid hurting my parents who always struggled to give us as much as they possibly could. I also refused to be a financial burden to them any more than I already am.

But I also realise I am a loner by nature. At least I was back then. I never made a true connection with any of my high school mates. Don’t get me wrong, they were all mostly as bright and as good people as they come and we all shared the experience of going to a top school with all its stress and expectations. Also, I lived far away from them and I couldn’t make myself a bother by making them travel so far for a birthday celebration I myself wasn’t even excited about. My other social group was my mates I played football with by which I mean playing in the local club’s youth team. I was even the captain there, but I never felt I truly deserved the captaincy through any display of my leadership abilities as much as it was the result of my calm (and somewhat meek) character as all the other boys were fast to rush into a fight or suck on a bottle of beer. Are you truly a leader if you don’t feel like one? However it may be, I was not eager to invite those guys either as their example of having a good time was getting wasted and wrecking the place. I could not understand that.

What the approach of my birthday forced me to finally face was the fact that I never had any true friends, let alone a best friend. It never bothered me, never affected me in any way. Not until now. Maybe not even now.

So my 18th birthday came and it went by and just like that, literally overnight, I became an adult. For days I tried to figure out what had changed. Putting aside the silliness of the whole thing (as nothing changes overnight), I really struggled to find any change in me that would indicate that I became an adult other than on paper.

Turning 18 does not make one a man, at least in my case. Nothing new here though. The question is what does? Experience? I had to find out.

The Pledge

It was early April and the Spring had been delayed. It was a cold period, and in spite of the longer days, it was a period of night that seemed to never end. It was before noon. The rain refused to cease. A shower. I found myself far away from home on the edge of the forest staring at this leafless damp tree. It was an ugly tree with crooked branches, leaning on one side, yet it felt strangely familiar to me. Comforting. I’ve seen it before in my dreams, or hallucinations, or visions? I don’t know what they were. They were vivid and felt real, no less real than any other thing in my life. I knew this was my mind playing tricks on me since I was here for the first time, but the pull I felt towards the tree was stronger than anything I’ve felt. I stood there watching it and it was calling me. I held my umbrella in one hand, had my dog’s leash in another. It was a strong and wide leash, much like a belt, for I had a big mountain dog and common leashes wouldn’t do. The thought went through my head: It could certainly hold the weight of a person. I didn’t know what I felt. I was numb, hopeless and lost when I went out. I’ve had no plan. Nothing was pre-meditated. Everything, as if by fate or divine intervention, fell in place at this moment.

This is it. My way out. It was clear. I’ve thought of it before many times. All the time. It was the only sensible thing to do. I was a burden, a parasite, utterly useless, and I was already dead. Dead in all the ways that mattered anyway. All I had to do is stop breathing. I walked towards the tree, observed it. A low strong branch was sticking out. My mind got crowded with thoughts, memories, my failures. The world is an ugly place full of suffering and I could not do anything about it. I can’t even take care of myself.

But then another thought came to me. A thought that seemed to break through the mental noise of endless negativity. What I thought to be my ego speaking told me that I can not die. I have a great purpose to fulfill. I used to know that as a child, have I forgotten it? It told me that the world might be an ugly place, full of evil and suffering, packed with stupid people, but it can be made better. What if my purpose is to make this world a better place? If I leave this world now without fulfilling my purpose there might be nobody else to take my place.

This was enough for me to turn away from the ugly tree and walk my dog home. I made a pledge then that I will never kill myself.