Friday, December 07, 2007

Treading Water

It sometimes happens that suddenly the oxygen is extinguished and you find yourself gasping for breath wondering whether you can make it to tomorrow, whether it is worth making it to tomorrow.

In Man's Search for Meaning, Victor Frankl went around the concentration camp working on those who had given up, by trying to help them discover their one reason to live.

Everyone has one.

But what happens if you can't remember and you're so fucking tired of it all?

You put up a suicide note on Facebook. Give yourself a month to say goodbye to everyone. Try and figure out how you can do it, to make it look like an accident. Resist crashing your car into another on the long, dark would be so easy, so easy...

A voice on the line, filled with warmth and love and hope, reaching across the miles and the anonymity.

Thank you.

A trip to Backyard to listen to Mark play (he always cheers me up), getting pawed at by an Indian drunk whose wife left him (so, what else is new) in the process. Four brandies and the inevitable drying out, the hangover.

The sadness, the spiralling out of control, the knees-to-the-chest ragged sobs, huddled in the front seat of my car, in some anonymous car park. The wondering about ways and means, what tools, rather than why build.

The Alice-down-the-rabbithole descent.

And then, and then, and then...yes, you can take your leave, yes, you can go somewhere regain your soul, yes, yes, yes...

So here I sit, trying to decipher an insurance policy document as my eyes give out and my brain shuts off. I've finished writing out nearly all my Christmas cards and even sent out a batch.

And I wonder where I'll go.

I need to disappear.


Marge said...

Don't disappear, dear - I know the sinking feeling, and trust me, you'll surface (or, learn how to scuba...there's pretty coral and mermaids down here).

Btw, I adore texting - I'll send you my digits via Facebook. Text moi anytime. :)

Erratic Scribbler said...

you know where you're welcome, where you can disappear and not get lost.

boogs said...

What little I know of you, I know you can't're too large and bright a presence to disappear....... find your audience from the masses, jenn.

Nessa said...

Please don't disappear. While we are not much in touch, you are a sister soul and you occupy a tangible space in the world that I can feel and see and hear. I smell the sweet perfume of exotic flowers as we frolic through the night sky, skipping off of the stars, the vibrations of light tickling and licking our bare skin.

You are not allowed to go anywhere until we meet in the flesh. (See me stomping my foot?)

john calica said...

to disappear is but to fade into the night - i am sure you'll find the light...or it will find you. good souls do not fade. the worst thing that could happen is that they are sometimes forgotten.

Jenn said...

Marge: By disappear I meant leave familiar environs to gather myself together...

ES: I know. And thanks.

Boogs: I'll try. You up for another drinking session?

Nessa: But when? When?

JC: That is so unbearably sad...