A Currsed Journey
Out of The Darkness And into
June 28th, 2008
it's almost midnight. I'm scared, terrified. My phone is endlessly ringing. My parents take turns in calling me and I am sure I don't want to pick up. God bless voicemail. Let them worry for a bit, let them feel half the fear I'm feeling. On top of a roof, life seems easier from above. People are tiny creatures, each with a trouble of his/her own. Lights are fading the stars and I feel that I'm not alone for the first time in my life.
It all started 12 hours ago. I woke up feeling like this depression is now bent to the point just before breaking. I have had enough. Enough with the medications. Enough with pointless shrink's appointments. This is the time when it all ends. I am done. I took out a blade. It's all shiny and sharp. I stared at the vague reflection of the remains of "me". Those bits and pieces of a human face.
I cut my wrists. I bled red, and I felt this warm tangling pain rushing through my body. I felt fear. My life did not flash before my eyes, an angel never appeared to me, I was alone. I got up, sealed the wound and burned it to stop bleeding. I was lucky. This strange outed bone in my wrist saved some of my veins. I wrapped my wrist and fell asleep.
My mother enters, screaming, terrified. She didn't think I had it in
me, lust for death that is. She asks and asks, but never the right
question. I kicked her out and stared at the ceiling. My father enters, quite, petrified. He didn't think I had it in me either; the courage to tell him how I feel about his life, how I hate him, how I do not give a damn about anyone but me. I kicked him out and stared out of a window.
I got dressed and went to the café' where I hang out. I just sat there, and watched those unfamiliar faces with their annoying unfamiliar voices. I emptied the warm beer in me and poured my sadness into this empty bottle and never wasted a drop.
My shrink looked different. He looked serious and pale. He scared me. Imagine facing three of the people you hate the most in one day. Oh fun!! I told him how I visited death today, and death accepted
me not. I told him how I wanted to cross over, see for myself if the
grass is greener on the other side. I need to know.
I'm scared, but learned to enjoy a little fear. I felt a need to be swallowed inside the depth of the underworld, as my father and my shrink allied against me. "Here's the deal, your father suggested you pack and leave the country, that's your getaway. Or, you can always kill yourself as you want!"
What kind of a freaking shrink would say that? "One of the finest" They said. Well, to hell with him, to hell with my dad. I stormed out of the clinic and went up to the roof. I did not know they had such a beautiful, death-oriented roof.
On my mobile messenger, my friend was freaking out. Our conversation was something like:
Me: "I'm gonna throw myself off of the roof"
He: "No, please, tell me where you are and I'll come."
He wrote and wrote and wrote, but I couldn't read a word. My eyes
were blocked by an invisible foggy cloud. I told him that I know exactly what I am doing. Though I do not.
As I said before, on top of a roof, life seems easier from above. My Ex GF(girlfriend) calls. She hears me choking and asks too many questions which I hold no answer to. She speaks fast but I barely listen. She cries, she begs, she's scared. Almost as scared as I am.
I don't know what I was thinking. Was it really in me; the courage to
be one with the pavement? To water those dirty streets with my blood? Am I willing to die and prove how weak I am to them? Am I going to choose the door that has "Exit" all over it, but not the path that lights up for me with arms wide open?
I hold a key to a door that doesn't exist. I am different. I am a proud transgender. I am of a different religion. I will not be judged. I will not be brought down by their morals and ethnic values.
I knew, that I can slowly walk towards the light, or chose to spend
the night with death.
I walked home. They marched me into their court room, and take turns in prosecuting me. They scream, yell and criticize. Only my parents can see me for who I am not. To their blind-folded
eyes I am their rebellious daughter. To the world I am a man, a brother, a best friend and a boyfriend. They cannot understand and they never will.
"God doesn't make such mistakes". Oh God, Do you not? Am I one of your non-existent mistakes?
They told me to arrange everything and leave this country in 6 months, and to never contact them again. I agreed. They told me that they'll throw a funeral and declare me dead after a year of my departure. I agreed. I watch their eyes turn red, and change to black within seconds. I march back into my room. Sink inside my bed and I feel something strange. Fear. Pain. Cold. Freedom.