posted on Jan, 12 2009 @ 06:02 AM
First off, this is my first post on ATS but I have been following threads here for about a year. So, hello everyone!
I used to think I had complete control over my life and could even end it as I saw fit, if ever came the need. I was never a religious child and
couldn't fathom how anyone, God or otherwise, could have any more influence over my life than myself. If I so chose to simply step off a mountain so
You might wonder why a child would even see a need for such things but I was brought into the world physically different and Ive always gathered a
mental difference from the "average" person accompanied that. I was born with one arm. That has never fully hindered me in my life but I have
always felt a sense of pain or awareness of suffering in the world from day one. I remember being as young as three or four years old and crying just
looking at people because I could feel their pain. So I guess you might say I felt my arm, or lack there of rather, was a homing beacon for pain.
Due to this, I could always see a reason or even need for people ending their own lives. Mind you, I felt this way before I ever had any life
experience that would make life seem even remotely unlivable.
Stepping ahead years into my life, I did begin to have situations which would always leave me staring into the barrel of a gun so to speak. My first
girlfriend at the age of only 14 years old died of cancer. The very same year my father was diagnosed with cancer as well and passed away within one
month. Then only two months later, I lost my grandmother. This was nearly too much for me to bear. I felt that either there was no God, or if there
was then certainly he would understand my pain and need to move on from this life. Suicide was always on my mind and even seemed empowering that I
could end my own suffering. But could I? I knew I would try to kill myself and at the same time seemed to KNOW I could never succeed. I took every
recipe of homemade suicide you could imagine. Three times in just one year, I woke up in my own vomit, still alive. This is when I first realized
that quite possibly I could not end my own life, and there was something else guiding me. Even the urges of attempt suicide just seemed like lessons
being forced upon me rather than my own chosen path.
Due to this realization I began to more easily accept things and not fight against my urges and obsessions. After all, those urges seemed to me as
though they were meant to be followed. At around 17 I began literally roaming streets at night on foot, wandering into seemingly dangerous
situations. I still cannot say why. But I saw things and met people that seemed planted there just for me. The more suffering I saw, read about,
felt.... I began to get more and more physically ill. I literally would pass out walking down stairs, driving(twice), and was in a hospital more than
I was out of one. I started feeling like I would never even get married because noone could ever love someone so sickly, what would be the point.
Nevertheless I did indeed get married a few years later. I knew it would not last but felt again that this was my path. However short lived it would
be, there was something to be learned or completed. My wife was always depressed and alone her entire life. With me being so sickly, I think I gave
her someone to pour herself into. We were only married four months because I suddenly became better and knew that right then I had to move on. We
had healed each other. It was another entry in my story of which I seemingly was no longer the author.
I am now 29 and have experienced such things as being shot, losing my fiancee at the hands of a murderer and rapist, and advanced alcoholism and
depression as a result. With all that said, I still maintain it is all for a reason just beyond my full understanding, and also completely out of my
own control. Pain seems to be the catalyst for change. Maybe our world needs to be in pain