Today is NOT the Day You Die. — An Unsuicide Note for Those Who Feel Too Much.

NotToday_AndreaBalt

They say it’s the last song,
they don’t know us, you see?
It’s only the last song,
if we let it be.

— Lars von Trier (Dancer in the Dark)

A few weeks ago, I was shaken up by the news that a lovely woman I met through my Creative Writing courses — and whom I appreciated and admired from afar, decided to end her life.

I’ve been wanting to write about it ever since, yet even as I breathe through words, this time they felt futile… empty… useless… not my own…

I’d exchanged words with her online that very day, hours (or maybe minutes?) before she checked out, without having the slightest clue that it would be our last exchange. 

Last October,  after years of connecting online, I finally got to meet her in person, in one of the most beautiful heart-to-heart encounters I’ve been a part of — a spontaneous last-minute Write Yourself Alive Meet-up I held in London.

A group of strangers sat around the table at a restaurant for hours and we openly shared about our personal losses, about the darkness that kept us up at 3:00 a.m., the unassimilated shadows, the weight of regrets we were still carrying, the hurt, the shame and disappointments we hadn’t yet forgiven ourselves… others… life for…

… Until our art — imperfect, raw & necessary — gave us a voice, a way, not out but through, a channel to alchemize our fire + all lies about our souls into a brighter truth that lifts and trusts and heals.

She was reluctant to share her story. Although she was beautiful inside and out, she had a hard time even hearing this truth out loud, let alone believe it. She was deeply caring and sensitive, but after giving her whole life to others she seemed to have very little left for herself.

She emanated light through every pore. There was a quiet passion in her strength, a stoic grace about the way she moved and spoke — yet she believed herself unloved and unappreciated. She talked about the unbearable loneliness she was left with, after losing one person after another. 

“Some days,” she said, “I just can’t take it anymore…”

I choked back tears, so hers would feel more free to fall. I felt her pain deep in my bones and all I wanted is for her to see herself — for one true minute — through the eyes of everyone sitting at that table, strangers yet in a way soul family — i.e. the eyes of those she was still blessing vs. the eyes of her losses. 

But she could not.

We concluded our meet-up with a combustion of hugging, intermittent crying and laughing “like all people who no longer want to lie to themselves”(*), improv piano serenades and reading poetry under a full bright moon.

You know, the kind of things you do with ‘random strangers’ you meet through writing courses… 

So it’s been raining more than usual on me this month — the melancholia, the open pores of my own longing, the bleeding wounds of our transgressions and transgressors, still longing to be healed, the fragility of the human heart, the deep layers of ache stored in our souls, the constellations of our hurts and joys — one day the light, another the dark emptiness we carry.

I think of how damn little we know or let ourselves be known, when we half-smile and say we’re “fine,” of all the stories of survival and of sorrow mapping out our lives. 

Some days I’m everyone, and others I could swear I do not know a single soul, and no soul truly knows me. I am alone, my own, but I’m so not my own. Alone. 

If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

If no one hears the truths we leave unsaid, do they exist? Do WE fully exist or are we merely surviving? Dragging our bleeding hearts and failed tries through all the narrow, crooked paths of life as if an inconvenience, a burden, a trouble-making vs. a life-giving power. 

I’ve lost too many people in the fires of life already — family, friends, lovers, acquaintances, strangers — none of them islands, all of their stories still a part of mine, and I, of theirs. 

The common denominator through all these storylines is that it each leaves me wondering… Could I have said or done more? When did it start or stop being my battle? Was it ever? Where exactly does my life end and yours begin? 

Could I have, through a word, a touch, a gesture, changed the outcome of her entire life and those that may have come into the world, through her, as a result?

Could I have loved harder, stayed longer, been more sensitive, paid more attention… Did I miss those 3 seconds — all that it takes sometimes to save a life — out of distraction, hurry, selfishness or unawareness? 

Am I the result of that same second of open-hearted empathy, somebody at some point spent on my father or my mother or all the generations of dream and dust and madness that brought me to this day?

And I feel sick, like with some ancient fever I’ve inherited from all the millions that came before me, because however recherché my metaphors, I can’t protect or save my troubled heart or yours from breaking.

Because no matter how alive our words or art can make us feel THIS TIME, RIGHT HERE & NOW, I cannot guarantee this fragile life won’t be returned to dust with the next heartbeat. 

It takes as little as 3 seconds to end your life. Just a moment of weakness, of built up desperation, of despair.

It also takes as little as 3 seconds to save it. To decide to accept, and rebuild and heal and create it. Just a moment of courage, of creative resilience, of HUMAN strength you carry in your DNA.

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There is a door around each heart guarded – often locked – by its owner, which cannot be opened by anybody else — no matter how hard love can try to break and enter you, or how badly you want it, need it, beg it to save you.

Unless you, of your own accord, decide it’s time to finally forgive yourself for all the hurt you’ve caused or received, and let life fill your lungs anew.

Nobody else can ultimately save you from yourself. Nobody else will save you BUT yourself. 

There is no shortcut back to you other than through the same backdoor you exited that day, when you subconsciously decided that you were not enough to save. And every story since only confirms the shitty deal you made.

With whom, if I may ask — and why so unforgivable your story? Why take this script and turn it into your life’s movie? Why not rewrite it with your heartbeats?

The irony is that whether you do or don’t the world will still go on. The difference is that SOMEONE needs you in it.

John Donne, whatsapp’s me from the 1600’s:

No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main…

Any man’s death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.

Beyond the limited and limiting confines of our bodies, these smaller selves that make us YOU, or ME, vs. the greater US or THEM we’re taught to fear, under our skin we share all of our joys just as we share our suffering, we share the wholeness of this life, just as a piece of us is torn with every single one that leaves the world.

Death’s bell tolls for all, just as life’s trumpet plays its music for all. Your notes are needed in this symphony. 

So please decide to stay despite the forces pulling you right out. Please hold on to this life, however terrible the night, do not give up before the dawn. Do whatever you must to keep you warm until morning.

Recycle this pain into something worth your suffering, recycle this emptiness into a new creation, recycle this hurt into a story that doesn’t require you kill the main character: YOURSELF.

If not for any other reason than because you are the author. 

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As for my part, if I could just rewind this day back to that Sunday, if I could travel back in time, I wish my words did more than just a superficial greeting.

I wish that instead of reading post-factum Suicide Notes, we wrote each other pre-dawn Unsuicide Letters more often. 

Instead of Hi or Fine or How Are You, I wish I’d told the truth, she’d told the truth, we’d all just tell the real, fucking truth about our lives  not feeling less for feeling deeply, sad or empty, not hiding just because we hurt, holding our ache up high like prayer flags, instead of shaming it with scarlet letters.   

For those of us who’ve known real darkness, sometimes there REALLY is no light, no logical belief, no factual reason to keep going. Nothing you say or do to me deep in that dark night of the soul will make me jump for joy or put a smile on my face.

What often works for me is not aiming for heaven – but simply lessening the load of hell and getting through the day, freeing myself from the foreverness and the impossibility of my burden, and learning to exist right here & now, ANOTHER DAY.

And as you’re getting through THIS DAY, take action. Creative action — your truest medicine against despair.

It doesn’t matter how you move, just move. In movement there are no excuses, no exaggerations or apologies, no if’s or maybe’s or someday’s. In movement there is only NOW. There is no THINKING, only DOING.

When words won’t do, when hearts won’t mend, when thoughts won’t matter, when it has all become too saturated, overused, untrusted, ineffective, obsolete, try STEPS, try TRUTH, try TAKING ACTION.

Stop contemplating, fearing, feeling, thinking about doing or not doing — and JUST DO. SOMETHING. HERE AND NOW. Do what will keep your heart engaged in beating.

DO NOT CHECK OUT, DIVE DEEPER. 

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I won’t try to convince you NOT to kill yourself, because what do I know… I’m under the same curse of life and death and all the pain and beauty sandwiched in the middle, just like you.

Just don’t do it today. Today we’re here, warm and personal, despite all our alienation and resistance. Today can be survived, today your sadness can be danced through to this music.

Forget tomorrow. Nobody has tomorrow, truly.

You’re not alone TODAY if you can read these lines.

We may be dead tomorrow, yes, no one survives this human roller coaster in the end, we’re all headed that way, sooner or later.

Just NOT today.

NoOneSurvives_AndreaBalt

Do me a favour and please forward her, wherever she might be, this letter.

You know, the bit of Her in Me, in You, in Us, in someone else you know — maybe someone (some You) will read it just in time… to not give up TODAY. 

Dear M.

Please don’t go yet. Today is NOT the day you die. 

You are not your past, the mistakes you’ve made, the happiness you’re feeling cheated out of. 

You are not the hurt you still carry, the losses that keep piling, the stories of survival they forced you to accept as yours. You’re not the cage, you are the bird that sings it open.

You are the the storyteller, the creator, the hand behind the wheel. Even when all the roads are blocked, new ones are waiting to be walked into existence — by your feet. 

There’s poetry still dripping from your fingers, miles of metaphor & skin to be explored, a truer world sprouting like grass among the ruins of your life. 

It’s just the way it is down here. Some will leave you & others will stay. Some will break you & others will love you back to life. Just show them, as you show yourself, the way back in.

And all this waiting, this aloneness, this becoming, this exile from yourself is just another stubborn way the spirit takes you home, in human chests, where you belong.

You haven’t seen it all. There’s beauty still in store that will collapse your lungs, there’s laughter trapped inside your bones, as if they’d never known the taste of breaking, there is new life you will create unlike the one that trapped you, there’s trust as if you’d never lost a damn person or thing, and you will bless the fires that brought you to this love.

Dear M.,

Know that the lack of music can also be a song, the emptiness prepares you for the rising, the darkness can’t be spared but it can be danced in, and all these disappointments are but sidetones of a truer love affair with life.

Don’t go like this. Too bright. Too short. Too soon.

Your loss diminishes me. Your life is an unfinished chapter in my story. You ache is burning through my lines. You may feel ready to let go, but we are not. 

Dear M.

Wherever you are. Whoever you are. However we got here. 

I love you. I know you. I am you.

Please stay.

YourBestYourWorst_AndreaBalt

_____

After publishing & sharing this article, I was pointed to this this wonderful short film by Bradley Bell based on a poem by Charles Bukowski that pretty much sums up the sentiment behind these lines.

Before you go, click play:

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

P.S. Know anyone whose soul might need a lift TODAY?

Please interrupt their darkness with this song.

#nottoday

 

***In sweet memory of Michelle Knowles***

Last edited: October 15, 2018.



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Comments

  1. A beautiful piece. Maybe see you in London next time. ❤

    • Andrea Balt says:

      Thanks so much, Sean. We missed you at that meet-up. And I can’t wait to finally see that play. 🙂

  2. This hit me in deep places –

    Thank you for this beautiful tribute to the souls who ache, who just need “to go home” –
    Most are silent about it but their energy is loud, unfortunately so is the rest of the world and their voices are muffled by the noise, the chaos and the spinning materialism of a world gone mad <3

    • Andrea Balt says:

      Thanks for reading Debbie. Yes, it’s a sensitive, mostly “quiet” matter and it took me a few weeks to find the words. Especially because I believe it’s something many of us, sensitive people, at least at some point in our lives have contemplated this kind of giving up, and yet we chose to stay.

  3. Andrea, ?…
    Grieving at her loss, and with you. I know of the unsayable torment of wanting to much rather opt out of this life than to endure the existential pains, and have even gone as far as attempting to end mine. It happened at a time when I was clearly not yet informed of what I can do with my creativity, or haven’t yet known there was a thing as life-saving as such. It’s reminders like these that will really, really spare us the loss. The thing you say you could have said or done more, you are saying and doing now to so many others who think they’re not going to make it through the night.

    A person I am so close to is currently suffering from extreme loneliness and has been contemplating on ending his life. I know he will benefit a lot from reading this. I am now sending it to him because any day soon is not yet the day! Thank you for your creative revolutionary acts of kindness.

    • Andrea Balt says:

      Thanks for your sweet words, Sofia. Touched. I sympathize & connect with you on so many levels. All I can say is I’m grateful you chose to stay, and keep creating more life. Not checking out, but instead going deeper and creating the alternative to all this pain — is, to those of us who feel “too much,” the hardest, most courageous choice we’ll ever have to make, I think.

      All my love to your friend. He is NOT alone.

  4. Garrett Carroll says:

    The last three years have been the most difficult I have ever been through, and this read really helped me to relate to the girl who you had known.

    I used to contemplate ending my life every week, grabbing some pills and taking so much until I was gone, but it never worked. The one thing that drove me to do so was because no matter what I had did for other people, it never seemed to work.

    I got let go from a stupid job. I nearly didn’t pass High School. I had a very close relative pass away. There was nobody to talk to about it. They were dark times.

    I then took a single course in College that flipped a question I had continuously asked myself. “What do I have to do to give my life purpose?” It helped for only so long. After about a year of asking myself that, I went back to the one thing that was always there: music and writing.

    And I changed around the question. “what is my life’s passion?”

    Because life is a confusing thing. But your passion is understandable.

    • Andrea Balt says:

      Garrett,

      Thank you SO MUCH for sharing your story. I wholeheartedly believe that reconnecting with our passion is our only saving point and place of authenticity & fulfilment — from which we not only heal ourselves but affect & inspire other lives.

      It is, as you said, PALPABLE, something you can recognize as your own, instead of constantly being owned by the world or others.

      Glad you’re alive. 🙂

  5. Kimberley says:

    Andrea,
    Thank you so much for sharing . Your beautifully touching words hit a part in me now and even when I did my first course with you. We are not our past and that should not define us . It is the hardest thing that we go through to lose someone but it is worse when we don’t understand it. My heart aches for you during this time of loss. My thoughts are with you and her family. ?

    • Andrea Balt says:

      Thank you so much for reading, Kimberly. I’m usually quite affected by any loss — whether near or far, friends or acquaintances — and this one especially made me reconsider this issue pressing like a silent shadow on so many of us. Speaking up about it is the only thing I know how to do.

      Sending you love. <3

  6. Jennifer says:

    I have been where she was many, many times. Suffering these past few years with great loss and now coming to terms with the loss of a beautiful friendship turned to love, but only for me. The loneliness is so deep and profound and I wonder each day, why?

    • Andrea Balt says:

      Hi Jennifer, so sorry, I know the ache. Sometimes there is no Why in the moment, but only How we choose to move forward. And I have realized, in my own case, that only time and HOW you move through it will eventually reveal the Why. It doesn’t make sense right away, but trust me, somehow it all will down the line & if you trust the process you’ll be grateful for this Why when you can finally see the bigger picture.

  7. Thank you

  8. Froukje says:

    Dear Andrea, I am deeply touched by your article. It is beautifully written. So much recognition. We have a mission out there. Thank you so much for sharing!

    • Andrea Balt says:

      Thanks for stopping by Froukje, glad it resonated with you.

      We do have a mission. Every single day. It starts all over.

      Sending love your way!

  9. thank you so much for your writing, it is very beautiful how you share yourself.
    I do think we need to learn more empathy. It is an art few know how to give. But it is the true essence of all healing.

    • Andrea Balt says:

      Hi Karey. I couldn’t agree more. The moment we realize we are all unique expressions of the same universal spirit & essence, something shifts.

  10. Tj Eberwein says:

    Andrea,
    Thank you for writing this and sharing it with all of us. All of us that feel deeply have considered leaving at some point and yet we are still surprised when others feel the same and choose to go. An old friend, a classmate, an acquaintance chose to take her life a few weeks ago, leaving her teenage daughter behind. I knew her, but not well. I liked her, what I did know, remembering how she was shamed in high school, the reputation that she carried and the brief time that I met her and she talked to me and was kind and accepting and beautiful and the memory that brief encounter made in me. We never know what another carries and we always question whether we could have helped, somehow, sometime, something… And yet all that we can do now, is love a little more in retrospect and hope that the universe is ordered in such a way that such love still reaches those that needed it in a different time, and that it somehow helps them on their continued journey.

    • Andrea Balt says:

      Thanks for sharing this story TJ. I’m so sorry to hear about your classmate. We never know, do we? What pains me most is that they leave / we all leave eventually without fully knowing the extent of the lives they/we have touched. Sharing this with each other is becoming more & more important in my life.

  11. Ulli Stanway says:

    This piece pierced my soul this morning. Deeply. Thank you so much for sharing your heart with this world. This is just ~ actually words fail me. But tears speak the truth. Thank you.

    • Andrea Balt says:

      Thanks for your feedback, Ulli. Sometimes words don’t even come close. It’s why it took me so long to write it. Sending you love soul sister. ♥

  12. i’ve been free of the abyss for about 9 months now after literally spending two years in and out of psych hospitals with suicidal depression. 3 suicide attempts later, the universe made it clear that it had other plans for me. i spent much of that time contemplating the the black luminosity of hell’s terrain. I intimately know my purpose. it is to reach out and help at risk youth. group homes, foster homes, runaway shelters, juvenile delinquents etc. it is what i do anyway, it IS my passion. the book i am writing about the two years where i had to face, accept, love, and honor my darkness is ‘meant to be here’

    i distinctly remember lying on a super thin mattress with my body curled up in thick chick fetus position, on visitors day in the hospital wondering where the hell my family was, and why my whole life has been spent in the pursuit of ‘belonging’. of course there is so much more to the story. volumes.. homeless teenager, streets of NYC.. all that crap that shaped the woman I am.

    this touched me deeply. thank you for caring about her. there was this young woman who worked in our unit. she knew i was spending my birthday in the hospital w/no visitors, so she went to the locale barnes and nobles and bought me a book with her own money so i would have a present. a young man who worked there raided his mom’s closet for books for me. (books are my coping mechanism) i met so many wonderful, heartfelt champions of the fallen during my time in all those hospitals. it matters. you caring matters. she knows. you know. we now know. you raised the frequency of gaia.

    thank you.

  13. The line where I started crying~
    “Wherever you are. Whoever you are. However we got here.
    I love you. I know you. I am you.
    Please stay.”

    Beautifully written. I feel so much pain for the souls we lose before their time.
    Don’t stay just for us; your parents; your pets; your friends.
    Stay for yourself; stay for your own gorgeous soul, you deserve all the happiness in the world.

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