The seduction of the noose 23/2/22

I woke in a temporary room in a temporary ward. I had paced the ward that day, looking at ways to die. The unguarded sockets. The windows that opened only so far, reinforced sides locked with an security lock star key that would require a specific hardware shop purchase. But it would be possible. Waves of this thought have sloshed around my mind, and I can feel myself sinking further and further info them.

I drugged myself to sleep much earlier. I was surprised, it was only supposed to be a stress relief pill. Then I awoke, in a long dark night of the soul. I felt around me and all was sufficed with grief and regret. I walked into the communal areas, looking to distract myself with human contact and to let things pass. I stood, and that's when I felt the sturdy belt around my waist. It felt like a horror and like an illicit shot of electricity. For all the things here, you still have this. You still have the choice, and they don't know.

My thoughts about that reminded me of allowing the rip current to pull me far out from the beach in Georgia. To turn, finally; to swim, perchance to drown. To feel the fatigue grow in your muscles, and to idly wonder if this is the time you won't make it back. It wasn't, but as with so many other times it could have been. I idly wondered about currents and illegal entries to Turkey. To how that would be viewed by the coast guard. To the way the buildings were slowly appearing on the horizon, and the simultaneous desire to stop swimming and to feel the honest endeavour of trying to survive.

I looked into the garden, and although it was spring it felt like an eternity of winter. The finality of the belt as noose was alluring, and for the first time I realised that didn't shock me. The idea didn't shock me, and I found myself pulling it tight around my neck. I watched the swelling of my face in the mirror, seeing my cheeks darken and the wrinkles depen and swell. I took care not to tighten too hard, not wanting to leave marks, just enough to feel the lightheadedness of artery compression and to wonder. What it would be like, if I would regret it, if the decision had already been made. The thread connecting me to life had never felt so thin.

The moment passed and I carefully put the belt on under my top. Another moment, another time. I asked for a sleeping pill and sunk again into a more temporary oblivion.

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