The World Of Jadeey

I find it interesting (and a little amusing) how people can view the same event totally differently. For instance the birth of a first child can be for one person (the mother of the baby) the most magical thing in the history of the world while for someone else it tears their world apart (the wife of the new baby's father if he was having an affair which produced said baby).

Also interesting to me is how people view an event in their own history so differently to a similar event in someone else's history. The thing that got me thinking about this was talking with my flatmate last night. We both did something similar once and she has a very different take on my reasons for doing it than her own reasons for doing it, whereas I see the actions as extremely similar. She wants the actions to be different because the reason she attributes to me doing it she doesn't want to attribute to herself. I think they are the same because I don't want the reasons she attributes to me to be the reasons I did it and because I have more information about my own actions than she does.

This event is was in the middle of a very turbulent 18 months for me. Very few people even know of the event and those that do deserve fully to make fun of me for it. I did something I shouldn't have and then spent the next 12 months watching it slowly blow up in my face. There is one person who never teases and never brings it up but that is because that person feels I have been punished enough. I personally don't think I can ever be punished enough and I totally deserve everything I get.

It astounds me to know how different I was then. How differently, how horribly things could have turned out without the help and support of certain people. It makes me determined to never ignore my friends calls for help and to be the best friend I can be. You see, as many times as I've denied this to everyone who wasn't there at the time and to myself, the truth is that I came the closest I've ever come to suicide during those 18 months. I was determined that I didn't want to live anymore and the only thing that stopped me was one person figuring out my plan and stopping me before I got the chance to carry it out. Fuck that scares me.

I've only ever told one person the full details of what was going on with me then and I'm not going to suddenly tell it all here. A lot of people know bits and pieces, the bits and pieces it doesn't hurt me to discuss. I doubt I will ever speak of everything to anyone again. Even though it was so long ago now it is still too raw and too painful. It is buried deep within myself in a place where a couple of other events, events that should have driven me to suicide more than the event that did, also live. Where I don't have to examine them ever because to do so would hurt far too much.

I look at other people sometimes and wonder what secrets they hide behind smiling mouths and stupid jokes. I wonder if their own secrets are as painful to them as mine are to me, if they spend as long every day pushing thoughts of those secrets away as I do.

I don't know why I just aired all of this on here. I didn't start out planning to. I certainly didn't start out planning to some of the stuff I've just admitted to. I won't delete it though. I learnt a long time ago that to write it down and delete it acts as the opposite of a catharsis and I my mind will be in turmoil. I'm sorry to those of you who have just read this and are now worried or curious about things that I just can't share. Maybe one day I will feel differently but for now this is as much information as I can give without damaging myself.

In a lame attempt to change the subject, I saw Sicko last night. America scares me! I've never been so glad to be a Kiwi as I was watching that movie!! share this: facebook

This entry was posted on Friday, August 10, 2007 at 2:06 PM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.