A number of years ago, when things with my first husband were on the outs, I went through a deep funk. I won't call it depression for reasons too involved to get into here, it was a funk, ok?
It culminated for me one day when I spent some half hour or more standing on the end of a platform in the London Tube network. Trying to work up the energy to fall over. The next train. Ok, so the very next one I'll do it. I still remember the sound echoing in my ears, the wind whipping my hair about my face, and the smell of fuel, damp and stale urine. Each time I froze at a train, I was sure the next one would be the right one.
I'm sure there must have been literally hundreds of people on that platform with me in all that time, but I was alone in my head and did not notice till someone spoke very very softly to me- and still scared the bejesus outta me. Just a normal looking guy, business suit and breifcase, standing about ten feet away and speaking so softly I had to strain to hear him.
"Please don't do it. But if you are going to do it anyhow, please sit down and give me just five minutes of your time".
I assumed he was a jesus freak and wanted to pray for me or some such. So I sat down. I had five minutes, and while I'm an athiest, my Dad's a minister- so I felt I really should listen a while. And so I listened. He was not a religious nutter. He was just a guy who's brother used to be a tube driver. Until he collected a jumper and was out on permanent disability for the shock and trauma of watching some guy splattered over his screen.
The guy never got close enough to touch me. But he managed to haul me away from the edge that day.
The next day, I happened to met Paula, and coincidentally I started to live again.
The past couple of years the funkiness has been building again. I'd feel it coming, push it back and go one. But yesterday I caught myself reading the fine print in the life insurance policy that goes along with my superannuation (Australia's forced retirement savings plan thingamajigger). I was trying to figure out if Sean would get a payout if I topped myself- how much it would be, and if the policy was still valid as I have not worked for a while, but have still paid the fees for this year.
And so I have realized that I'm back on that edge again.
Time to back away and haul myself out of this funk.
Who's with me?
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