An ode to the ‘failed’ attempts
Suicide.
Even the word is evocative
And provocative
Charged with emotion and energy,
Memories
And thoughts of what was and what could have been
Had you succeeded. Had you been successful!
A ‘Successful’ Suicide
What an oxymoron! Alas,
A failed attempt and all that leaves
Behind; in the cold and desperation
Surrounded now by despair
Dressed as anger.
And the feelings of failure
‘I can’t even fucking kill myself properly’
Let me die.
Please God
Let me go……….
It hurts so much
Judgement then
Where tenderness is most needed
Coldness
Where warmth and compassion are ached for
Pined for,
Desperately sought.
Their absence proof that staying is futile
Painful
Pointless!
Please show me a heart
That can hear without defensive fear,
Impatience and dismissal
And accusations of selfishness
And attention seeking
Smirks and sneers
That cut deeply into and already fragmented heart
And soul
And cut up body.
Please bring me a cup of tea
Sit with me
Don’t look away!
Please show me tenderness
Truthfulness.
Rawness.
I’m not interested in feelings scales
And talk of helplessness and hopelessness
And ideation
And intention
And plans
And triggers
I need humanity
Not science.
Hold my hand
Connect with me
Allow me to grieve
Allow me to see myself in you;
See hope in you.
Give me time and I will do the same for you.
***
Hear the poem read by Nicola Clare:
***
How strange it is.
You want to die,
You try to die,
You think you are dying,
You survive
You must then act as if nothing ever happened.
Or even worse, be grateful for your predicament!
Pondering that, led to this.
Thank you
***
Nicola Clare is an Irish shamanic practitioner and teacher, and longtime social care worker. As a psychiatric survivor, she is passionate about self-autonomy, the transformative power of nature and each individual’s innate ability to heal themselves, given the appropriate tools, space and supports. She loves soul-connections, cold sea dips, nature rambles, words and writing. She’s finally happy to be alive.
***
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