A moment

The moment between birth and death, in part, remains only partially within control. In childhood, my parents made all of the decisions for me--as most parents do. However, even after the teenage drama passes and young adulthood emerges, people only react to situations as they arise. Although the decision, let's say, to maintain unhealthy eating habits are entirely within my control, I do not decide to have stomach cancer, or moles, or baldness. I do control how I react to these events, however.
In my childhood, my parents behaved outside of the mainstream, to put it mildly. I was home-schooled (a risky decision, especially in the 1980s), and my parents raised us in the woods 8 miles outside of a small town. We did not attend church, and we did not have a television or radio. As we grew older, we were forbidden to have boyfriends or to date. We were completely isolated and under-socialized.
Looking back, it astonishes me that my sisters and I can talk to people. As a youngster, I held my head down when speaking to people. It was painful.
I remember how depressed I became, even to the point of telling my sister, "I am not having a good childhood." Strange, how I identified my problem even as a child.
My life started off with the propensity to become depressed, and so I did.
I remember the first time I wanted to take my life. I was about 11 or 12. I sat on the edge of my parent's bed in their tiny mobile-home bedroom. I brought my father's .22 rifle to my chin and held the trigger with my right hand. I wanted to pull the trigger, but the thought of what lay on the other side of that shot frightened me. I remember after I put the gun down, I laid on the floor in a ball and cried. I wanted out, but there was no way out.

A Life Lived In Darkness

Today is a new day. The sun is shining, and it helps. My life is one lived in the dark, from pre-teens til now. Depression a constant companion. The veil that separates me from the world has always been, almost tangible, and within reach. I can almost touch it. Some days are better, of course, but I have learned in thirty-six years that there is no hope for me. There are only days of relief, moments of sunshine. But the darkness remains.
My story begins nearly thirty years ago, in East Texas. My blog is about the moments and events that led me here, and the seemingly eventual and pre-determined ending to my life. This is about me, and the moment between my birth and death.
For all of those who live in the darkness...