Just a quick introduction before y’all lovingly spam my inbox with concern (for which I am grateful, truly), please remember; writing is my therapy.
Therapy, for the most part, isn’t a pretty, neat nor tidy package.
It can often be ugly, raw, messy.
This is what this piece of writing is. And for this I make no apologies, not this time, I’m sick of apologising for how I feel. I’m sick of disclaimers (which ironically in its essence is what this is) for how I feel. Just know that this piece of writing reflects where I’m at this week, this singular week. It is not my perennial state.
Welcome to Self Hatred Week!
My name is Regret, and I’ll be your snarky tour guide. So great to meet you!
During this week, we’ll watch countless hours of the same scenario, we’ll be replaying this over and over and over in your head. Such fun!
Don’t worry, there will be some break in the repetition where I will provide ‘make believe’ alternative scenarios, what if’s, if only’s and unattainable happy endings. All of this is to add to the authenticity of your mental torture.
But don’t get too excited just yet, there’s so much more to come!
We’ll also be taking a brief trip down seedy Suicide Lane, don’t worry, it’s only a detour, we won’t be staying long, still, it’s sure to mess with you, in all the wrong ways!
Whilst on Suicide Lane, you’ll find yourself packing away a sharp knife in the kitchen, when you’ll be overcome with the terrifying urge to plunge it deep inside your chest. You’ll look down at your breast, still clasping the knife, and your brand new $8 top will catch your eye. Sadly you’ll realise that’s pretty much the only reason you can’t commit to the knife plunge at this time, the blood would completely destroy the shirt, and hey, $8 is a lot of money during this life stage!
I’m sure there are other reasons to fight the plunging urge, and you’ll remember them, later. But the t-shirt will have to suffice for now, and it does.
Oh, and mind your step, the shadows, they move underfoot.
If we have time, which we will, I’ll make sure of that, I do after all want you to experience the full spectrum of what my exclusive tour has to offer, I’ll lead us through your digestive tract.
Oh that stinking cesspool of anxious energy! I’ll provide you with large doses of nausea, frequent toilet trips and butterflies drunk on delirium.
I’ll then decrease your appetite, you could do with losing some kilos, kidding, that’s not part of the deal, this tour only seeks to leave one in despair, there can be no physical reward!
Once we’re done in the gut, we’ll creep back up to the brain where we’ll experiment with your nerve endings for a bit.
Ah, would you look at that? Success!
See here, if we just give these wires a little tug, we can totally disrupt you, our victim, sorry, pardon me, our subject’s sleep centre.
We will allow you a small amount of sleep, but ensure its fitful and disturbing, by use of graphic horror scene nightmares.
A few extra pokes and prods to that grey matter will see you waking to clenched teeth, clenched fists, unable to relax.
I know, it’s exciting stuff!
Next we’ll be perusing the Observation Deck. Here you will have the unique opportunity to step outside of yourself. This will result in the deep revelation of why you’re so frustrated and repulsed by the book you’re currently reading. You’ll understand, with no amount of much needed and desired sugar-coating, that all the ugly self-centeredness you’re seeing in the author as she chases her privileged dreams, is merely a reflection of all that is ugly in you!
The dizzying height of this spectator self-awareness view will bring an intoxicating, almost coma inducing dose of humility.
Oh, how the dark shadows shall revel as they sense your despair over your corrupt soul!
The homestretch of our debilitating journey, will bring us to our final destination, The Press Room. Here your loved ones will gather, the ones who truly care, alongside those who skillfully, and not so, feign concern.
Here is where you, the defeated soul, drowning in the stench of your own broken humanity, will have to try to cheer everyone else up, all those who have been made uncomfortable by your desperate condition.
Here is where you will console those who are visibly shaken by your awkward and inconvenient instability.
‘You seemed so together‘, they will chorus, ‘you seemed so okay, are you now saying you’re the D-word…you know, depressed? Suicidal? We thought you were a leader, we thought you were strong! Obviously you’re no longer hearing from God, at least not with any clarity, otherwise this would not be happening!‘
Well then, I think that about covers the run down of the tour. I don’t know about you, but I for one, am desperately excited! Whoop!
Before we commence, are there any questions? Hmmmm? Anyone?
Yes, you, the defeated looking one, how can I help?
“Um, Regret, can I cancel my booking? I’m no longer interested in participating in this tour.”
Awww, nope, I’m sorry hunny pie, there can be no refunds or early departures. This ticket is yours, you earned it! Therefore it expires only when it’s good and ready. You just gotta ride the tour out, and wait for the earliest alightment, which should occur in the next few days. Until then, buckle up sweetheart!
Oh, wait, unless of course you want to exchange your ticket?
We might have some vacancies in The Hope and Recovery Tour, but if you think that’s gonna be an easy ride, you’re in for a rude awakening sweet pea…
If you, or someone you know is suicidal, please contact Lifeline on 13 11 14 or your Dr or HealthCare Professional.
Please don’t struggle alone.