My Sadness...

I was shattered most of my life. Nothing but emotional debris, pieces of my self esteem scattered all over the place with broken tips so it wouldn't stick together even if I matched the pieces. A torn broken puzzle... Pages of my journals scribbled with nothing but suicide threats and smeared with bloody tears.

I had never tasted happiness. I could see others who had it, I could almost feel it, but no matter how much I searched for it, I could never find it. I searched corner after corner, which turned up empty, I flipped over rocks, I found blanks everywhere.

I decided to get lost in a melancholy sea, and it was a comfortable area for me. Somehow I found comfort in being sad. My sadness was the only thing keeping me alive, and I was barely breathing. It felt like being stuck in a void.

Then in 2004 I decided that the world was too cold for me and that my ending would result to suicide. Like a lot of my fellow Pisceans before me, I had chosen death so I could sigh eternally.

I have never been afraid of my own death. To me, death is losing your family and friends on this world and being left alone on earth to cope with the lost, that's my definition of death... I have a close affiliation with the other side so my own death had never scared me, I wasn't sure how I was going to do it, I wrote several goodbye letters to the people I loved (about you know, 5 people), I locked my journals inside a safe hoping they would never be found because I had never found anyone I could share them with, for everyone had I known had always betrayed me in one way or another. I set up my life insurance for everything to make sure my poor mother had enough money to bury my corpse.

It was all carefully planned. The song that would play at the funeral, the clothes I would wear, the poem that was going to be read, and the guilt that I had clearly indicated my plans in advance in so much of my writing and poetry that people should have known and would be sad that they could have saved the Lost Piscean but they didn't…so selfish. Everything was planned and worked out to the very last detail.

They say that you cry for help when your suicidal, whether you hear yourself or not, and being the strong communicator that I am (Mercury in Aquarius which is a very intellectual/humanitarian sign), I must of slipped and mumbled "SOS" out loud somehow. Maybe it was the days I spent mopping around in my room, or the bad live journal entries I would spit out, but somehow someone heard me.

Today, I owe the world to this person, my soul mate who heard my distant frail cry. He carried me through the hardest times of my life, and I wasn’t helping myself to walk at all. Even though I screamed at this person a million times that he didn't understand me, he is possibly the only human who ever did. He didn't even know I was on the verge of suicide at the time, but he somehow still managed to take the loaded gun away from my temple anyway.

Just when I had lost all faith in human kind and had chosen to end my life so I can move on to another realm of things, a new start in the unknown, and an angel came and rescued me...

Now a year later, I'm finally part of the happy people. I've found myself a true soul mate to share my life with and everyday I thank the god/goddesses that I didn't decide to leave this lifetime after all.

Life changes, it may take awhile, but hang in there. I was always the one thinking negative thoughts only. "I was never meant to be happy", I was the "black sheep and would die a spinster", I was burdened with a "dark black sad suicidal faith", now I'm the happiest person around.

It had never occurred to me, that to get happiness that's genuine and real, you have to walk through hard times and bleed lots of blood. Nothing comes for free.

Don't ever give up on life, keep on bleeding….eventually the blood will run dry and you may just meet an angel to pump you with some fresh blood.