So....I'm here, in Floreste, BsAs and I've encountered a ledge. Yes. A ledge. AKA a balcony? A Balcony 5 flights up with a beautiful view of palm trees and a school...how appropriate in its own way...
I'm confronted with memories that I cannot handle. Drinking a half bottle of malbec doesn't help either, eating clean then adding alcoholic is toxic. Depression immediately ensues.
I first feel very comfortable on the ledge, the balcony with a great view until it hits me; I don't want to live anymore. I remember completely a bunch of memories and feelings accumulated from years of having or should I say, allowing myself to hurt my feelings. I'm done. I want to cash in my chips and leave the building like Elvis. Enter immediate exit! How convenient. But seriously, Robbi? You would consider hurntig others to hurt urself? Wow. Deep. How low can you go.
And I'm wondering...have I done this to myself? Am I a victim of circumstances? Or am I just crazy? Either way you look at it...I'm overwhelmed with the thrill of successfully ending my misery of living with one step. But, Sergio is here & gets me. WTF? I'm miserable because I'm alone in my mind, but am I alone? I have at least 1 person in my life telling me to walk away from the ledge.
My great friend Robert's wife took a leap of faith off a bridge in Canada. She forever altered her husband - my friend Robert's life with that choice. One simple step that's not so simple. Cached from years of sadness and worse emotions that culminate with an interesting decision. I wrote a song about her after he shared the story with me...I thought at the time, wow! How severe is that? I could only imagine...
Now here I am in a wonderful moment, feeling like she did perhaps? I'm not sure.
It definitely was a catalyst to depressions to have a couple of glasses of red wine tonite. Little did I know that these low vibrations would remind me of the amount of time I've wished to no longer be here, exit, or cut the class of LIFE. Until it because something I attempted to do. I'm around people all the time, but not one of them understands what I'm feeling. I've tried to slice my femoral artery, jump out a window, committed to dangerous behavior with abandon and them some. Yet, I'm still here with the walking dead/
Maybe Sergio does care for me? I was willing to trade the old Robbi in for the possibility of a new life - until I went out on the lanai to view the city in the night with a sweet puppy named CoCo. CoCo went back inside.
That was the trigger. Being on the balcony reminded me of being in my 20's & being beat up by my fat ass, disgusting boyfriend EddieJoe who did as much as possible to confuse & hurt me. He was successful at most things. I'm so happy to know better now! Hind site, I tell you...what a fat fucking waste of time he was, yet, he opened a can of Robbi Worms the that I cannot heal.
Marrying an African was even worse. Making babies, plural, with someone who doesn't love or care for you is painfully unfulfilling after the kids are potty traded sucks. An unexpected change in heath, aging, and flesh & blood turning their back on you .... how much worse can it get? Worse I tell you. Worse.
The haunting feeling of not being enough and a recurring theme of how I feel useless is pretty damn good for discouragement.
Yet, I'm a wonderful person, talented, with so much to offer the world. Isn't it ironic?
So I'm gonna listen to what I think is love, encouraging me to suck it up and hold on...better days are coming.
I don't stand a chance...but I'll keep holding my breath for just a little longer.
I apologize to everything, body & one that I've hurt. Life as we've been persuaded sucks. Do something about it every chance you can.
I love you more than me....