The devil's face and other hauntings....Not for the faint of heart

I will make a confession right here and now. I'm schizo-affective bipolar. I know, I already wrote that on my dashboard. But really, I am. You see, for most of my life I have denied this. Bipolar, yes, the other, no way. That's other people. Not me. I'm just depressed once in a while.

But I have to confess, it really has haunted me all my life. Those of you from Campbell River probably remember the 'devil woman' tag I had. I saw an image on the wall of a pencilled in devil face, on a band trip in Kamloops. The truth is, I hadn't eaten in two days. I was also manic. I didn't know what was happening. I wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. It was pretty wierd.

I arrived home to find the whole town making a mockery of me and my family. It was pretty horrible. Pretty fucking horrible, actually. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I just knew that I was different from everyone else and I wanted to die quite frequently. I would become really high and unfathomably low. It was a brutal way to live.

The next year I felt side-swiped. I was failing a class, my best friend moved away, I found out my older brother was gay, my dad was an alcoholic and somehow I was supposed to fix it. (These are not judgements. I loved them both dearly but felt unrelenting stress from the circumstances) I also was re-living some sexual abuse in my mind. You just didn't talk about this stuff back then. Oprah had just begun and Donahue was something that occured to 'those people on tv'. This was shocking news for a 15 year old in a small town. Plus, I was devil woman! My moods continued to slide dangerously low. I was losing touch. I thought the whole school was talking about me. It was terrifying. I came across the word paranoid in the dictionary, and realized I was. Then I became paranoid someone had seen me looking up paranoid...funny that.

(I still remember) it was a gorgeous sunny blue day out, with maple leaves blowing in the wind and I skipped school. It was the day. I was going to finally do it.

I grabbed a knife from the butcher's block and made my way to the upstairs bathroom. I began to slice open my own flesh. I just didn't have the guts to press too hard, so instead I got the razor blade out of the sewing room. And I began.

The flesh gave way, and I went deeper. At one point I used nail clippers, if you can imagine. That is what probably hurt the most...I was so distraught I barely felt the rest of it. I started getting pretty dizzy...my vision was going from the stress of it...I knew I would pass out soon, but where was the blood? There was nothing to be seen...when I finally found a tendon that could truly screw up my hand I decided not to go all the way through.

Standing up, I realized I couldn't go through with it. I kept my eyes wide open, so as not to pass out. Now what....how to reverse the irreversable...

There is no going back. Some decisions are final. To this day, I wear these scars on my wrist, so blaringly obvious to me. Constant reminders of my vulnerability. For most of my life, I would rather show any stranger my naked body than show you my upturned wrists. That utter fragility that still haunts me.

The other night I was outside, enjoying the setting sun, listening to the kids play in the alley and absorbing my little garden. And I looked...as I have looked so many times before. And I just thought, 'why, why must you always walk with me, for the rest of my life? I was only 15...'

Only this time, an answer came to me...To remind others that we all have our breaking point. To show deep seated compassion for others even if they are a little grouchy. To be just a little more patient with the cashier, even if she is slow. That if I have to be that wierd chick that is made an example of what not to do, so be it.

So, if you have been considering such overwhelming thoughts, do yourself a favor and talk to someone who will really listen to you. Really listen. And if nobody will listen, call a crisis line. Or go to the hospital emergency room. Or talk to me. I'll always listen to you. I know. I've been there.