As I’ve gotten older, I’ve found it harder and harder to give my trust to others. In my mid-life though, after many years of being careful because I am so sensitive, too sensitive sometimes, I’ve still made mistakes. And those have been really, really bad ones.

It’s even harder to resist the urge to close up completely from making these awful mistakes, because there are times when I have deep doubts about having any worth, I can’t feel life, and I let my guard down – suicidally. It’s throwing caution to the wind in a stupid way, and I know it, I KNOW it. I know that the person who I am giving my trust to won’t be a person I can trust, a person who, outside of what comes out of their mouth, really doesn’t give a damn about me. Haven’t I learned yet, after all these years on this earth, to mistrust words from a young age? Aren’t they almost ALWAYS not backed up by equivalent deeds? Apparently my desperation during those times overrides this time tested knowledge.

I throw myself off the cliff. I see myself approaching the cliff. I know that I will have broken bones when I jump off the cliff. I do it anyway. I break my bones. Alone. The only thing I’ve been reassured of is that my intuitive perception about the person who helped me throw myself off the cliff, was that they were the kind who were willing to do so. They exist, those assisted suicide people. You don’t need to go join the Hemlock Society. They help you attempt suicide with their own obsession with their broken spirits. You join together because you both have broken spirits. But the blind can’t lead the blind.

More than anything, I don’t look forward to having more of these attempted suicides. These misery loves company parties. In the same way that a healthy person can pick you up, breathe life into your suffocating lungs, a person who is already badly wounded can help you push the knife you’re holding at your heart all the way through to the other side of your body.

I dread yet another cliff jump. And I can’t promise myself that they won’t happen anymore. Every time you allow yourself to trust, you could end up with all your bones broken.

Every Thursday