I called Rashid as my absolute last resort, before dialing 911, and let them haul me away, wherever they wanted to take me, to drug me up, to put me in a padded room, to tie me to the bed, to shock me, or remove part of my brain…anything, to save my life, to save me from myself, to save me from my brain, to save me from the pain. I could not stand the pain any more.
Did the thoughts cause the wave of chemicals raging through my body, my cells…or did my brain cause the thoughts I do not know. All I know, that I felt the fog setting in again…the terrible wave of pain approaching, a tidal wave of horror…and I wanted to be dead again. Terrible, physical and emotional pain….pain….and I did not even know why? Did I feel rejected? I do not know. Did I feel unloved? I do not know? Did I feel unworthy? I do not know. All I knew, I could not take it anymore. I just could not. If I did not kill myself, the pain would kill me.
But, I fought. I did not want to die. I felt the fight inside me…I felt Ms. Frankenstein, my own personal monster, telling terrible things to me…repeating all the terrible things, my mother told me, my father told me, my ex told me, my friends told about me, and Sasa told me…they were all right. THEY WERE RIGHT. I was ugly, and fat, and useless, and not wanted, and so easily forgotten, so easily replaced, I was not important, I was not good enough, I should have been ashamed of myself, I was such a pussy, such a fake, such a weak, terrible person…I was dirty, I was ugly, I was old, I was crazy…I was a mistake, I deserved to die…and if I should, my friends, and my family even, would cry, and say, oh, why did she do it, and what a coward, and what a waste…why did she do this TO US…but in a week, or a month perhaps, they would be all back to their hotty sex, and puddle grooming appointments, and jobs in the brothels, and s searches for relationships that come ready with two bedrooms, and white picket fences, and fucking young boys in the back of the cars, and they would forget about me, they would not even miss me…no one would miss me, not even I, if I was alive.
Do it! Do it RIGHT this time, forget about suicide notes, and DO it right here…who cares, who finds you, who cares…just do it. Do it, and you will feel no more pain.
And, I screamed, NO! I DON’T want to do it, I don’t want to die, I am not going to do it, please, just please, stop this pain…HELP ME…somebody, please help me..
Then I heard a voice. The voice I have heard so many times ago. The voice I've heard since I was eight and had a "near death" experience. The voice that has always spoke to me, although I succeeded in blocking it out, to ignore it, to hide from it. After all, I wanted to be "normal". I did not want anybody, especially myself to think, I was crazy, hearing voices and seeing entities. But now...since two weeks ago, when I tried to kill myself, I WAS officially "crazy". I was "mentally ill". I was "suicidal". I was "depressed". I was diagnosed having Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I was diagnosed, labeled, boxed, drugged...I WAS crazy.
The voice said: call…call somebody to help you. Call…talk to somebody, talk right now. Find one person, it is all that it takes…find one person…and do not die.
I knew, I do not want to call Joan. She would send the police. In this country, when you need a hug, people send the police. I did not want to call Colleen, or any of the others. I would want to kill myself after talking to them, more. I called Emese. She was at work, and she talked to me, as much as she could…but she knew, and I knew, she is my daughter, I can’t tell her, I can’t….
Then, I called Sasa, my ex boyfriend, the one who left me for a "normal" woman, a woman with no voices, no entities, no drama, no complications, no gift, no talent...a mundane, simple, "normal" relationship. I did not care, what he is going to say, or do, or he will know I am desperate, and crazy, I will not even ask him to talk to me, I will go to the hospital, but I can’t drive, and if I have to go, I will, but, please do not make me again drive in the back of a police car…I called him, and he did not answer the phone.
I called Emese again, but she was busy, a customer came in and needed service. I was still trying to save face, and did not tell her exactly how bad I was. I was ready. Ready to either give in, and kill myself, or give in and call 911, and face the “professionals”…and let either the devil, or the mighty system, whichever is worse, whichever comes first, to take me, to take my soul.
I got another of the anxiety attacks then, and I could not breathe. Great, I thought. I AM NOT calling 911, and now, I will die…and I did not kill myself, no one can blame me, they will find in the autopsy, that I died of natural causes….my heart exploded, my soul has imploded, it is as natural as any other way to die.
But, the voice, Him, the entity I did not even consider identifying, accepting or calling GOD, did not let me. As I was fighting not to breathe, fighting not to call the ambulance, fighting not to be saved…a part of me fought, harder, and harder, to make me breathe, to continue to be alive, to fight until my last breath…and suddenly, I heard it, clear and loud:
CALL RASHID
I did. I called him. Rashid, my friend for the last ten years, the sufi muslim guy. The following, is a verbatim report, of what he said. I wrote it down, as he told me, I made notes….I felt myself coming back, I felt myself getting strong again…and if Rashid would have been in the room, I would have kissed him, I felt so grateful for what he said. Because, Rashid did not know about the entities, the voice in my head, my conversations with "imaginary friends", until this moment, he did not even know I was depressed and suicidal! Yet, he was telling me everything, that He, God wanted me to hear. Rashid was not talking, he did not save me, yet I am forever indepted to him: he let go, he let God to use him, he let God to talk through him. He let God save my life through him. He let God make me understand, I was not cursed but blessed. I was not depressed, but uplifted. I was having a spiritual journey, a transformation...the transformation of the butterfly. I was giving birth to myself. My old self, the construct I have invented to survive, to be approved of, to be loved, to be liked, has died that day, and a new entity, a new being, God's child, God's scribe, translator, the Beloved Gina of God was born. I have not one, but three birthdays. One for the day when I was born into this word. One for the day, when I almost killed myself, but was stopped by God. Finally, most importantly, the day of my resurrection: when I accepted, I was not normal, I was not crazy, I was not special, I was not even gifted: I was simply, wonderfully, miraculously one of God's beloved, I was simply One with God, I was simply on my way to be whom I was always meant to be: Me.
But, I did not know any of this, in that moment, in the darkest place of my soul, in the deepest cavern of the hell I have created for myself. I thougth, I was cursed. I thought, I was deserted. I thought, God, if he existed at all, was out to destroy me, torture me, punish me. I thought, he wanted me DEAD.
- I want the pain to go away. - I sobbed in the phone- I want it to stop. I can’t take it any more. I am sorry, I am not strong enough, I do not want to do it, I just want to die. I want peace.
Rashid did not miss a beat. He did not ask anything. He started talking, and for the next ten minutes or so, he did not stop:
If you want peace, stop fighting. You can not get peace, when you are in the middle of a war. How did the hippies say? Make love, not war…stop fighting.
Feel the pain. Observe it. This is your life, and your profession. You’re on a fieldtrip, and experiment. You know those scientist, who inject themselves with terrible diseases, to test the treatment, the medication, to see, on their own, and to prove, that it works: you will understand your clients, and those you are helping, and you will understand yourself when you are trough this. Report the pain. Observe it. Analyze it. What is it trying to tell you? What it is trying to teach you? What is it’s message? How does it feel feeling this way? How long does it take? What, if any thought makes it go away….
Go through this, GinaBabe. You will be a much better, stronger person at the end.
You told me last year, when you were counseling me, when I was depressed, you told me of that saying…what is that again…pain is weakness leaving the body. I never forgot it…Feel it. Feel weakness leaving your body. Let go of it, all of it. All that melted lava of pain. Let it erupt, leave you. You are being cleansed, purified. When it is gone, there will be nothing left, but your essence, pure and powerful. When it is all gone, there will be nothing but you.
Use what you already know, use the advice of your intuition. Do not care, where are the instructions, the advice come from…forget the circumstances, and what caused, what triggered this journey….Listen to yourself. Turn inside, and explore what you find, no matter how scared you are…go in that dark room of your spirit, and turn on the light. Clean out all the mess….
The floodgates are open, your transformation is nearly complete. Think of it, as if you are on a pilgrimage, as if you are climbing a pyramid, or a steep hill, to a sacred place…one step at the time, stop when you need to, take a break…then keep going, and one day, you will reach the top.
Remember the pain of labor, when you were giving birth to your children? Remember, the light is within you, ride the pain, feel the pain, ENJOY the pain, and after all the pain is gone, give birth to the light, let the light come to live, and let it be.
You’re OK. I am with you. God is with you, whichever God you believe in, my god, Allah, and all the Gods of humanity…for they are truly One. He is with you, inside you, around you, with you. Feel the cocoon, feel the protection. You are in pain, you are suffering, but like a mother suffering through labor, and the fetus is suffering through birth, your suffering is a blessing, not a curse. It’s purpose is life, not death.
When you are in the deepest of your pain, find the light within you, and hold onto it. Let the vomit, the blood, the gunk, the yuck, the dirt, the resentment, fear, hate, mistrust, ugliness leave your body. Let it go, Gina, don’t fight.
You want peace, stop fighting
You want love, let it grow inside you
You have to make room for more, for better to come. You have to cleanse, and purify yourself, every cell of your body…so that it will be able to receive the gift that is to come.
Your mind resists. Your body resists, and is fighting for control. Let it go. Let it all go. It is Ok, it is safe. You’re alone. No body else is there, to see. You are alone, and you are safe. I am here for you, always a phone call away.
Look inside of you. See who you are. I know who you are. You are one magnificent, strong woman. You are one, magnificent, powerful, limitless, almighty soul. I know this, because I know you. I have known you for a long time.
Don’t turn your face away. Look at all the pain, look at all the evil. It would have and destroyed many, and many given into it, into it’s power…but, not you, because you’re strong and powerful. Because you are a good person. You are a wonderful person.
You are still the innocent, pure, loving, compassionate person you were, on the day you were born. You are beautiful, in the real sense. Why else do you think I have been in contact with you all these years?!
All that has been done to you, is not you.
All that has been said to you, is not you.
All that is said about you, is not you.
None of what happened to you, has changed who you are. You are The One and ONLY ONE created to be YOU. The One and Only One strong enough, powerful enough, magnificent enough, good enough, smart enough to finish this journey, your life. Enjoy it. Not many are given the blessing….you are chosen for this, because you are worthy, because you can do it. Do not give in on yourself, do not give in on your soul, do not give in on God.
You are being prepared for bigger and better things. Let go of the weakness, let go of the pain. Let go, and trust that Allah knows what he is doing.
I do not know…is anything that I am saying making any sense to you? I am not a counselor…and I am just saying what comes from my heart. I hope it is helping…and just know, you can call me, any time. I will be here. You have helped me so much, and I respect you so much…you are a wonderful woman, Gina, and do not EVER let anybody tell you otherwise…go back now, and feel the pain. I know you can do it. You are the only one I know, whom I am SURE that can do it. Take care, and call me any time.
I believe now, and Rashid agrees with me, that it was God who talked to me that day. It was Him who told me to call any time. I have called him many times since then. He has never let me down. I am glad I was given the blessing of depression, I am glad for the pain, I am glad for the peace. I am simply glad to be alive. Thank you, Rashid, for letting God save me. Thank you, God.