The Tree

Hello all! It has been a while since I’ve been able to write, I think the state of the world lately has weighed on me and on top of that I’ve also been in another period of introspection. I’m finally starting to feel on better footing though.

This is a short piece but I hope people can find value in it. The setting is deep in a state park in the mountains of northern Arizona in the spring of 2014, about a year after my delusions first started appearing.

I want to note that I am much better these days and thankfully I don’t suffer from thoughts as extreme anymore and although I think they will never go away it has become a faint and fleeting experience.

If you haven’t read my work before see the introduction, short story is that I write stories from my struggles with mental health dealing with hallucinations, delusions, mania, and depression.

Trigger warning: Suicidal ideation.

Four fingers, that’s it. That’s all that lies between me and the end of this madness.

After wandering off the trail for a while I found a good tree, climbed it and strung up the noose I made last night. I am sitting here on a branch with a loop around my neck, leaning back with just one hand holding on to the branch above, waiting to slip away.

It’s been four months since my life fell apart. Well, since I destroyed it really. I already killed myself metaphorically, why not just finish the job? Nothing has come of this and nothing ever will. None of it was real, it was all just drugs and bad genes. Just schizo-whatever.

The experiences were so real though, and the signs too hard to ignore. But none of it makes sense, why would god send me down this path? Why would this be his grand plan? For me to quit my job, alienate my friends, and move to the desert with my parents, doing absolutely nothing waiting for the big “sign”.

Was it all “real” though? I mean I know what I saw, I know what I felt, what happened over and over. But what about my interpretation of it? Maybe the experiences are real but my understanding is what’s wrong?

Tears start to stream down my face as anguish takes hold of me. Just straighten your fingers, just let yourself slide back into nothingness and this will all be over soon.

Why did he do this to me? Take me down this ridiculous path? WHY!?!

- There is no he there is only me -

Who are you?

- I am you and you are me -

Stop talking to it, stop listening to it!! The voice, my voice, is not to be trusted. It has only led me to pain and suffering.

It’s true though that it was always me, there is no one to blame but myself for getting to this point. There is no god or spirit watching over me, this is just a disease and I can’t escape it.

I have to end it.

I’m crying harder now and my fingers are starting to hurt. Maybe if I wait long enough I’ll just fall from fatigue?

- You are strong, she will come -

As the crying becomes uncontrollable I yank myself up and hug the trunk of the tree grasping for life.

Why do these words still get to me? Why can’t I let this fantasy go?

It is right though, I know I have the strength to keep going. I can push forward and see if I can find some good in all of this. I’ve come so far, worked so hard, learned so much and I am just going to throw it all away because I’m lonely and afraid? I can’t give up just because I am lost with nowhere to go.

I have to stop waiting, I have to stop expecting some “god” to put my future in my lap. I will make my own way and if there really is some plan I imagine this would have to be part of it. And if there isn’t I have to find a way to live with it.