Truly, that is how I feel so much of the time. I don't belong here, in the air breathing landlocked environment. The places I find the most wonder, relief on my joints and pains, and the least damn thought,, is at depth, tank on, as close to the ocean floor as possible. Just sitting. Reclining, Prone.Laying on my back, watching my bubbles rise, shimmer, and pop. Breathing in slowly, exhaling twice as slow. Working diligently to make my tank last as long as I can. All the while, knowing, my time in peace is measured, literally by the breaths I expend. The tank holds a finite amount of supply. My time at depth, in my own world, will come to a close. Too soon.
Then I will be forced to ascend. It's not enough that a diver must ascend slowly to release nitrogen build up in their tissues (decompression). No, I rise reluctantly emotionally. The last 15 feet before breaking the surface and searching for the boat? The ocean surge builds to a wild crescendo, and I am once again, tossed about. To and fro, with no control over where the push or pull takes me. Tides, moons, weather, physics, it all pulls and demands and insists that THEIR voice be heard!! Pick ME they scream in the cacophony clamoring in my head!
Immediately upon emerging into the "air"? The fight to find a way to breathe clear air begins. Either I saved sufficient P.S.I. of air in my tank for this period of getting back on the boat? Or I must trust a snorkel, which is constantly being swamped by waves of salt & brine. Knowing that this stage exists?? Makes me nervous to even plan a dive, travel to a site, begin to suit up, check the equipment, jump off a perfectly good boat in to 60 feet or more of heaving seas,,, and to TRUST the fact that if I can JUST get to 15 feet of depth?? The surge is almost non-existent. I can then navigate N,S,E,W and find my happy place. I can remember to breathe properly and relax, totally LOST in a world of wonder and awe and ever-changing glory of God's creation.
Like with most aspects of my life, I charge the trepidations head-on. Nervous or not, I shrug, gear up, and dive anyway. Most of the time, the rewards outweigh the risks.
So much color! So much LIFE! So many little sounds,,, the clicking of the shrimp, the churning of propellers, the rustle of metal dive gear scraping in a foreign land. The sound of my own blood pulsing.
It is what is missing that makes this so wonderful. No conversation. No media. No electronics (past the dive computer). No yesterday, No tomorrow. No pain in my body after I equalize the changing pressures at depth. Then, for me,,,, no inner dialogue. Absence of churning thoughts. A focus on surviving safely in a "hostile" environment, and a relaxation to just "BE" one with the ebb and flow of LIFE all around me.
I lost a dear friend last night. Too young, too soon. Senseless. That she feared most to be alone, and died alone? Crushes my heart. I failed her. I failed me. I failed her family. She died in her own worst nightmare. Alone.
She wrote me a note. She tried to set my mind to ease. Instead, she left me more questions. Immense pain. Overwhelming loss. Deafening silence of her voice. Forever.
Forever. Oh my God how that hurts.
I had felt in my spirit that something was wrong. I felt the call to travail. To anguish. I prayed. I felt ineffective with my own words, because at that moment, I didn't know the need, just that there was one. God has a sense of humor. He created me to be intense and passionate. Prayer is no different for me, it is a 200% whole-body experience!! Funny joke, God, that my altar is so often while I am at work, driving, trapped behind the wheel.
I didn't get release from God this time. I stopped praying when I was expended, but didn't feel closure of the matter.
Then I find out why. My friend killed herself.
All day today I have been so at a loss to reach out. Trust me, I think I am pretty pleased that I have a few internet friends, a few church friends, fewer family..... until the time comes when I really wanted to be held and reassured. then all of that felt shallow and made me question why I let anyone in my world at all. Ever?
In person, people hurt you. In the anonymity of the internet, emails, blogs, books, media, there is just no real human touch. I was completely crushed by that separation and void today. I both fear people and their touch and crave it, need it all at the same time. And that weakness of me, just pisses me off.
Suddenly, the euphoria I was bubbling along towards my Friday trip to reunite with Alisha, was tempered first by the unshakable sense that something was wrong, that pain was ahead. Then by the reality of a phone call and a letter to me.
I failed to make a difference for my friend. I let her down. She died alone.
Hell, I live that way. It's Life for me. But she had tried Sunday to tell me how uncomfortable she was in her family, in her environment. I listened, I asked her questions, I gave her the best thoughts and guidance that I know.... she answered her questions for herself. She ended her life.
So, today I had to choose. Forego my trip to Colorado, and risk losing Alisha again, perhaps forever?
Or stay behind and attend a funeral? Face the friends and family, her daughters and let them see me as the failure I am?
Just the sadness of loss alone, was enough to render me unable to drive or work. I was getting truck maintenance, and the staff were so concerned by my grief and stage of distress, that they found another truck, gave me the keys, and encouraged me to take my clothes, and sleeping bag in there. They thought I needed sleep. Which, physically, yeah, I am at the end of myself. I needed sleep. But I ended up crying. Praying. Yelling. Crying.... a lot of crying.
If I lived at a physical address like my driver's license proclaims? I would have called out sick. Frumpy housewife attire of fuzzy comfy bathrobe, box of Puffs tissues in one hand, cup of herbal hot tea in another. Lavendar aroma to soothe, instrumental, soul-taming music soft in the periphery....
On trucks, though? At the end of the day, an angel unawares came to me. Israel walked up to me and said he had a word from God to me. It was the story of King David, after he had sinned with Bathsheba. The prophet had come to him, through a parable described a theft and crime. David himself spoke of vengeance.
He was that man,,,, his child was to die. He fasted, prayed, and abased himself. To the point where his people feared for his sanity. Then the child DID die. When he got the word, he arose, washed, and clothed himself.
When asked why? He said, "I cannot bring him back. But I can go to him one day."
Israel told me I am to "GO, among the living, while there is yet time".
So, I have made a tough decision. I am still flying to Colorado on Friday.
Once the decision was made, I went to sleep.
The word came next, that it wont be a funeral after all.Rather she will be cremated, and a memorial service at another time. So, I made the choice, which was confirmed by this. It wasn't easy though.
So, I slept again. I fall asleep crying. I awaken, crying. So sad. So hurt. So lost. So in pain of heart, mind, body, spirit, soul. Such loss.
I began to drive around 11pm. There are several meteor showers a year that I faithfully attend and tell everyone I can think of about. Pathetic, but I think if even one person sees the same sky, as vast as it is, separated by miles and time zones? That perhaps, there is a spirit connection and i am not alone after all.
Alone? I really resonate with my friend. And am fighting the depth of despair and crushing hopelessness. Like my friend, I am alone in a room full of people. In a church, in a classroom, in a home.
The "GIFTS" within me keep me so different, and very isolated,
Curses, sometimes,,, that's what they seem like to me.
I spent time thinking of HOW she died, her method of taking her own life. Her letters to people. The scenario, who found her. Who knows she is dead?
Unbidden, yet insidious, the thoughts churn in me. I won't leave a note if I choose to leave this world. I won't make a mess. I won't be found by my children. I won't be a burden to them.
If I do it, it will look like an accident. Everyone knows I use ice blocks for pain management. It would be as simple as "trying" dry ice,,,, noxious in enclosed spaces like my rig! Death is peaceful,,, you just go to sleep.
Life insurance will pay out. The girls can be sorry I am gone, but not in anguish as to WHY ...
yet, I have had thoughts of suicide off and on since a teenager. Tried more than once. The last time was last year. I had taken steps to ensure I would be left alone long enough, that there would be no resuscitation.
BUT GOD.... he allowed me to sleep soundly 3 hours,, before he himself woke me up.
Israel also told me God had verses for me. Romans chapter 8,,,, I cannot choose to take myself from this life. Not until God lets me go. In his word, he explains that he will not do that.
What about my friend? Did he let her go? We have self-will.
Too many questions.
So, as I drive southward to Miami for an 0800 delivery, the eastern sky is dark, the moon shifted already. I see an Orionid meteor.
Funny, i love colors and Kodak moments. But sunsets and sunrises are products of environmental pollutions. And meteor showers are the earth passing through a comet debris field,, not falling stars as we so glamorously proclaim. Thanks, Nanci, I will never think of "comet debris field" without seeing in my mind the words you typed "comet $heeeet...." LOL.. comet poop. Well alrighty then. Pollution, in other words.
http://earthsky.org/astronomy-essentials/earthskys-meteor-shower-guide
Yet I drive through the darkest of nights,, looking diligently for a "falling star" or the coveted and rare EARTHGRAZER (thank you, Zig Ziglar!). And I wait earnestly, hopeful for sunrise. Then because of my job and lifestyle?? I end up seeing the sun set later in that 24 hours as well.
I have no tidy end to this note. Out of words at the moment, yet, I know I have not made a dent in my pain, or made the least bit of sense or reason. To you the reader, or to myself.
So lost. So sad. So hurt. So alone. So,,,,,,, in pain. Whether lungs or gills? Breathing hurts me right now,, because it means I am alive to draw it,, and my friend is not. Ever.
Crushed and hurting,
Jan M. Olsen
~J~
spellcheck isnt working and frankly my dear, i dont give a damn
Romans, portion of chapter 8:
35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?
36 As it is written, For thy sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter.
37 Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.
38 For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,
39 Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
