Julio's Musings

I had all and then most of you
Some and now none of you…

Two years have gone by. For August 5th, my calendar simply reads “The Worst Day.” It’s the anniversary of my worst day. The day we met…

I drove a lot that day, despite having been at work in the office all day. I drove a lot more than I would on a typical Wednesday. I met my passenger that day. My passenger spoke a lot during those drives; haunting my mind as I headed to visit my friend and continuing to haunt me on my drive home. My passenger was pretty relentless.

I remember so much of that day as if it had just happened. A large part of it stays so vivid in my mind. I remember a tree that had collapsed in my friend’s neighborhood. I even took a picture of it:

I didn’t realize it at the time, but this uprooted tree represented my own turmoil. I felt like so much I knew had been turned on its head and I could not cope. Everything built up over time and, before I knew it, my life was upside down and I did not know how to handle it. From family sickness to built up work and life stress to heartbreak and loneliness, everything felt like it was happening so much and so quickly that I would break down. The foundation I had built for myself had collapsed and, much like the tree from that day, I couldn’t keep standing. My fall was imminent.

And then I can tell myself
What the hell I’m supposed to do
And then I can tell myself
Not to ride along with you

The time with my friend was okay. We talked about life. We talked about struggles. We had dinner. Though, as it got later and the time for me to go home was approaching, I felt that passenger again. My passenger was ready for me to go home; to take him home. I wish I had been able to speak of this passenger outloud, but the grip of fear and loneliness kept my mouth shut. It was like being kidnapped and not being able to speak up about the danger you’re in. I just went along with this passenger. It was all I could do. So I said bye to my friend and went on my journey home.

When the night was full of terrors
And your eyes were filled with tears

The road felt extra dark that evening. I mean, that drive is always dark at night, but this time felt so much darker. The passenger continued to speak so much during that drive home. “You’re useless. By now you realize nobody will ever love you. That emptiness you’re feeling is all there is, so what’s the point in living? Do yourself and everyone a favor and end things.” This type of talk went on for the full 45 minute drive home. I cried so hard and so much during that drive I’m not even entirely sure how I was able to see the road to get home. But get home I did.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do
Haunted by the ghost of you

I sat in my driveway for what felt like an eternity. I looked back over the past several months of events and I became numb. The tears stopped. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw the garage. The passenger I had met that day continued to tell me it was the only way now.

I opened the garage door and walked in. I stood there for a while wondering what to do. I closed the garage door and searched for a rope. I couldn’t find one. It was at that moment I realized how many long extension cords were around. So I found the strongest looking one and unbundled it. I looked up and found the beam to tie it to. With one end tied up, I stood there remembering all the terrible things the passenger had told me throughout the day. The numbness remained. I started typing on my phone, which, oddly enough, I screenshoted at the time:

And as I was writing that, I thought of my niece. It was this brief thought of maybe all of 1 second long, but it was a spark. And suddenly the emptiness and the numbness vanished and tears once again began streaming from my eyes. And I thought of my other nieces and my nephews. Of my friends. Of my family. Of the terribleness that would fall upon the person that found me if I listened to that passenger I met that day. And I stood there and I cried while holding that tied up extension cord. That spark woke me up from the still and the quiet and made me feel my pain again. And, while I was tired of that pain, it was so necessary to keep me alive. The Worst Day of my life, the day I had decided I could not go on any longer, also turned out to be a day I decided to keep fighting.

The darkest hour is just before the dawn

The Passenger (The Darkness, if you will) had all of me in their grip. And then they had none of me. The spark ignited a flame in me and the light brought me back from the brink. This was the beginning of my journey to healing. There would come a day, two months later, that would see me seeking help from doctors and medication. But it was this day, August 5, 2015, where I decided to keep feeling and to keep living. And I sit here typing this, two years later, at the point of coming off my medication and with the tools to better handle any darkness.

I leave you with two final things:

First, a quote from what is probably a bad translation of La Vita Nuova:

In that book which is my memory,
On the first page of the chapter that is the day when I first met you,
Appear the words, ‘Here begins a new life

While I did meet The Darkness that day, in the end I also met the version of me that was beginning to emerge from the ashes. I met the version of me that would become the person I am today. I’ve come a long way since that day two years ago, and I hope the next two years will bring me even further.

Finally, I want to link the song that helped me write this post. All but two of the quotes in this post are from that song. Just like the title of this post, it’s called The Night We Met by Lord Huron