Don't You Take It Lying Down

No! No!

Hold on, hold on tight,
I'll make everything alright,
Wake Up! Don't go to sleeep,
I pray the Lord your soul to keeep...

Suicide.
From what I have read nearly everyone has thought about it at some point or times in their life.
Thankfully, relatively few people actually act on those thoughts.

There was only one time I ever began to act on it. It was after my ill-conceived idea to get married.
This was before I met Patti. I had fallen in what I thought was love (lust, actually) with a barmaid in Long Beach, CA.

Everything was goin' great, or so I thought. My fiancé seemed to love me. I can still recall the look on her face when I asked her to marry me.
A look of surprise and joy. And here I was worried about bein' rejected.

First of all, sorry it's taken me so long to write about the conclusion of this story. It was just too painful and embarrassing to do so before now.
Well, partly.
The other reason is because I didn't want Patti to read it. I knew if she did it would cause her pain.
And I already had caused her more pain than anyone should hafta endure.

I had gotten a rare half day off and decided to surprise my fiancé. I didn't have a copy of her apartment key so I knocked on the door.

And a guy with a towel wrapped around his waist opened the door. Behind him I could see my fiancé in bed with another guy.

"What the hell?" I said, trying' to make sense of what I was seeing.

She got up out of bed, naked and walked to the door.

"It's okay Mark, I'll just be a minute. Why don't you pour us some more wine?" She said, nonchalantly.

It seemed so surreal. It was as if I was facing a completely different woman than the one I asked to marry me.

"I thought you were working all day," she said, glaring at me.

Is she for real? I wondered. Is this real?

"What the f#ck is goin' on?" I asked.

"Exactly," she said, smiling.

"What?" I asked, exasperated and not a little bit hurt.

"I don't think we should get married. You want to join in?" She asked, leering at me.

Is she demon possessed or something? I wondered.

I wasn't gettin' the love vibe anymore. The complete opposite, as a matter of fact. More like an evil vibe. And apparently, she wanted me to join in the evil. Revel in it, I reckon.

"Are you...are you se..serious?" I stuttered.

I used to have a stuttering problem when I was younger, but I had mostly conquered that problem by the time I had entered junior high school. Right after I began fightin' back against bullies.
But it was returning now, and that made me feel more insecure, vulnerable and, I dunno, like an idiot.

"Y-yes, I-I'm se-serious," she mocked, smiling that evil smile.

I didn't reply. I couldn't. I just had to get outta there. I walk quickly, almost running, to the sounds of laughter, from her and those other guys.

I don't know how long I walked, but before I realized it, darkness had fallen to match the darkness I felt on the inside.

Figures, I thought, anger rushing up inside and just itchin' to burst out.

I surveyed my surroundings and concluded I was in a bad side of town. I didn't care. Probably a good thing no one attacked me in the state I was in.

Then I directed that anger at myself.

You! Stupid! F#cking! Idiot! I screamed in my mind.

I went on like that for awhile and started walking' again. It was a damn good tirade if I don't say so.
I needed to smash somethin' and that somethin' was me!

Of course, smashing' myself wasn't very feasible so I did the next best thing.
I ducked into an alley, almost pitch black. A blackness than was encompassing my very soul. Utter darkness.

I reached into my pocket and got out my buck knife. I looked at my arms, wondering if I could really do it.
Do I have the guts? I thought. But it wasn't just my thought. It was alien. But I didn't care, did I?

I stuck my knife into the outside of my forearm, about a half inch deep and I cut about an inch across.
It hurt but not all that much. Blood came pouring out like the darkness in my soul.
I made another cut, a bit smaller this time. Then I started to cut my stomach, just a small stick, actually. I applied more force but it was tougher than I thought.

My stomach muscles are really more pliable than I thought, I thought, applying even more force.
The knife went in a bit more.

Then I pulled it out. Only a small wound remain, blood oozing out. I looked at the blood for awhile. It was dark but I could see the blood...black blood enveloping my arm and part of my stomach area.

It was then I broke down and tears flowed, but they weren't black like the blood. And somehow, that angered me again.
Enough to begin another tirade at myself.

You f#ckin' coward! I thought. You don't have the guts to do it!

This went on for awhile until I finally realized I wasn't a coward for takin' the easy way out.
I choose the hard way, I resolved. Because...f#ck it! Who cares? I just am!

Occasionally I still get a thought, rarely of committing suicide, but I am now strong enough to never act on it, and to obliterate those thoughts once again and nail 'em to the Cross!
And pray and contemplate my many blessings...

Yeah, life can be painful. So what? I'm thinking'. Am I gonna give up? Be a selfish loser?
Or am I gonna smash somethin'. Somethin' dark?
Ben Smash puny darkness! God smash puny darkness!!!

Okay, so I Hulk out every once in awhile. Holy Hulk out. I gotta be stronger than the darkness.
I Am stronger than the darkness.

Because He lives within' me.
And there ain't no darkness too evil for Him and for me to smash!!!