The Boogey Man

THE BOOGEY MAN

The Boogey Man has come

Bold and brazen in bright day light

God like as if I should worship his help

He wants to eat me from the inside

I want to die before he does…

I wrote this last week during a moment of high distress. Yes, I was suicidal. My misery was inconsolable. I was stuck in flashback. Memories that were stabbing me. I was letting them. I felt helpless. Hopeless. This is never going to end, I thought. It will always be like this. I cannot handle this fucking shit, I thought. Why does it always have to hurt so bad? Haven’t I hurt enough? I deserve to feel happiness after all that I’ve been through. Crying for hours without stopping. Hiding from anything that could help me.

I wanted Meth. Despite my ability to stay away from it for the last 18 years. I wanted it more than I wanted my life. And if I do that, well, I might as well kill myself. I remember that misery. That was hell. That was me on my knees before the Boogey Man.

I can tell you honestly that I have thoughts of suicide several times a day. I plan it. I research it. Then I realize what I am doing and I stop.

Sometimes I can stop. Sometimes I’m too deep and I keep going, spinning, yearning. Those moments are filled with such emotional vomit.

I’m still here.

If this is you, I know you. I feel you. I send you thoughts of warm compassion.

I’m still here.

If this is you, please use whatever strength you can muster, the kind of strength that has kept you going to this moment. Grab it. Get outside. Feel the wind on your face. What does it smell like? Touch the ground and ask yourself what your fingertips are feeling. Is it warm? Wet? Cool? Is it rough pebbles? Soft and smooth soil? Look up. Is the sun hitting your face? Are raindrops masking your tears? Look for a tree, a flower. What would it feel like if you could touch it?

Take in the air as deeply as you can and let it out as if it were all of your hurt leaving your body.

Think I’m stupid for saying this? Sound mushy and ridiculous? Does it piss you off to even read it? I know it does. Because it pisses me off to write it. I know who you are. You are bigger than the fucking Boogey Man. I promise, it gets better. Moments pass, good and bad. You need to show the Boogey Man that he is nothing but a moment in time, a puff of air that disappears with the wind.

I’m still here.

IT GETS BETTER.

Don’t let him win. You are better than him.